


^ ... •** 




"by* 



° A *.. 



V .r^L% «\ 






.♦ .VS^'. *< 



^v * 



.0' • «.••* ^ 




8 « +> 









V 



-° 9 A 







^°4 



L° ^ A* *V 



^ «** ^ ^ - 



> ^ 



*<T * 











"by 






V % *L?(L'+ ' 






: %^ •«*•: \f St 



J\ 



<,. *^T« ' j? "o.. "-J\T«" ys <, -*??7i 















"V 







^ V 










>\.l^. ^ 



**. -tt;-* **' 






.0 -«> -.,,- o>> 











A°*. 



%;-^'-' \# . -* 







V v .J^l> ' 







^ ^ ^ 

C vP 






V-^ 



•^•o< 



o V 



V" 

*3 O 













■•V 



4 o> 











■■* ./'X °*OT^' , ** ** . '-.a 

























^ ♦ 







V* 










'• «♦* 






<r*> \flpv ^ vot?.- **"% '$ 


















if. :^ 









<^n C* 






iV^ 






•/.^% \«K«- ^x-.? 



<> *' 



*bv* 



/,.^.:.>. 



^o« 



6° .'ii&A 



f A /• 



Lyra Germanica : 

HYMNS FOR THE SUNDAYS AND 

CHIEF FESTIVALS OF THE 

CHRISTIAN YEAR. 



Cgra (Bfrtrmanica; 



HYMNS FOR THE SUNDAYS AND 

CHIEF FESTIVALS OF THE 

CHRISTIAN YEAR. 



TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY 

CATHERINE WINKWORTH. 

A NEW EDITION. 




BOSTON: 

E. P. BUTTON AND COMPANY. 

135, Washington Street. 

1868. 



*® 






RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE: 
PRINTED BY H. O. HOUGHTOS. 



— — " BECUE5T 

rtv rev. julius w. ATwnao 

JUNE 5, 1945 . 



TO HIS EXCELLENCY 
THE CHEVALIER BUNSEN, 

ETC. ETC. ETC. 

THESE HYMNS ARE, BY HIS KIND PERMISSION-, 

RESPECTFULLY AND GRATEFULLY 

DEDICATED BY 

THE TRANSLATOR. 




PREFACE. 

^HE following hymns are fele&ed from the 
Chevalier Bunfen's "Verfuch eines allge- 
meinen Gefang und Gebetbuchs," published 
in 1833. From the large number there given, 
about nine hundred, little more than one hundred 
have been chofen. This feleftion contains many of 
thofe beft known and loved in Germany, but in a 
jvork of this iize it is impomble to include all that 
have become claffical in that home of Chriftian po- 
etry. In reading them it mull be remembered that 
they are hymns, not facred poems, though from their 
length and the intricacy of their metres, many of 
them may feem to Englifh readers adapted rather to 
purpofes of private than of public devotion. But 
the finging of hymns forms a much larger and more 
important part of public worfhip in the German 



viii ftnface. 

Reformed Churches than in our own fervices. It 13 
the mode by which the whole congregation is ena- 
bled to bear its part in the worfhip of God, anfwer- 
ing in this refpecl to the chanting of our own Liturgy. 
Ever fmce the Reformation, the German church 
has been remarkable for the number and excellence 
of its hymns and hymn-tunes. Before that time it 
was not fo. There was no place for congregational 
flnging in public worfhip, and therefore the fpiritual 
fongs of the latter part of the middle ages aflumed for 
the moft part an artificial and unpopular form. Yet 
there were not wanting germs of a national Church 
poetry in the verfes rather than hymns which were 
fling in German on pilgrimages and at fome of the 
high feftivals, many of which verfes were again de- 
rived from more ancient Latin hymns. Several of 
Luther's hymns are amplifications of verfes of this 
clafs, fuch as the Pentecoftal hymn here given, " Come, 
Holy Spirit, God and Lord,"* which is founded on 
a German verfion of the "Veni Sancte Spiritus, 
Reple." By adopting thefe verfes, and retaining 
their well-known melodies, Luther enabled his hymns 

* Page 117. 



ftrtfacc. « 

to fpread rapidly among the common people. He 
alfo compofed metrical verfions of feveral of the Pialms, 
the Te Deum, the Ten Commandments, the Lord's 
Prayer, the Nunc Dimittis, the Da nobis Pacem, &c. 
thus enriching the people, to whom he had already 
given the Holy Scriptures in their own language, 
with a treafure of that facred poetry which is the 
precious inheritance of every Chriftian Church. 

The hymn, "In the midft of life,"* is one of 
thofe founded on a more ancient hymn, the "Media 
in vita" of Notker, a learned Benedictine of St. Gall, 
who died in 912. He is faid to have compofed it 
while watching fome workmen, who were building 
the bridge of Martinsbruck at the peril of their lives. 
It was foon fet to mufic, and became univerfally 
known; indeed it was used as a battle-fong, until the 
cuftom was forbidden on account of its being fup- 
pofed to exercife magical influences. In a German 
verfion it formed part of the fervice for the burial of 
the dead, as early as the thirteenth century, and is 
IH11 preferved in an unmetrical form in the BuriaJ 
Service of our own Church. 

* Page 235. 
1* 



The carol, "From Heaven above to earth I 
come,"* is called by Luther himfelf, "a Chriflmas 
child's fong concerning the child Jems." He wrote 
it for his little boy Hans, when the latter was five 
years old, and it is ftill fung from the dome of the 
Kreuzkirche in Drefden before day-break on the 
morning of Chriftmas Day. It refers to the cuftom 
then and long afterwards prevalent in Germany, of 
making at Chriftmas-time reprefentations of the man- 
ger with the infant Jefus. But the moil famous of 
his hymns is his noble verfion of the 46th Pfalm, 
"God is my flronghold firm and fure,"f which may 
be called the national hymn of his Proteftant country- 
men. Luther's hymns are wanting in harmony and 
correctnefs of metre to a degree which often makes 
them jarring to our modern ears, but they are always 
full of fire and ftrength, of clear Chriftian faith, and 
brave joyful truft in God. 

From this time there has been a conftant fuccemon 
of hymn-writers in the German church. Paul Eber, 
an intimate friend of Melanfthon, wrote for his chil- 

* Page 12. f Pa g e ! 73- 



JJrrfctc*. = 

dren the hymn, "Lord Jefus Chrift, true Man and 
God," * which foon became a favourite hymn for the 
dying. Hugo Grotius afked that it might be repeated 
to him in his laft moments, and expired ere its con- 
clufion. Another hymn of the fame clafs is, "O 
weep not, mourn not, o'er this bier,"f the "Jam 
mcefta quiefce querela" of Prudentius IT. tranflated by 
Nicholas Hermann, the pious old precentor of Joa- 
chimfthal, a hymn long fung at every funeral. 

The terrible times of the Thirty Years' War were 
rich in facred poetry. Rift, a clergyman in North 
Germany, who fuffered much in his youth from men- 
tal conflicts, and in after years from plunder, pefti- 
lence, and all the horrors of war, ufed to fay, "the 
dear crofs hath prefTed many fongs out of me," and 
this feems to have been equally true of many of his 
contemporaries. It certainly was true of Johann 
Heermann, the author of fome of the moft touching 
hymns for Paflion Week, who wrote ids fweet fongs 
under great phyfical fuffering from ill health, and 
amidft the perils of war, during which he more than 
once efcaped murder as by a miracle. So too the 

* Page 239. f P a g e 2 49* 



xii preface. 

hymns, of Simon Dach,* profeflbr of poetry in the 
Univerfity of Konigfberg, fpeak of the fufferings of 
the Chriftian, and his longing to efcape from the 
ftrife of earth to the peace of heaven. 

But the Chriflians of thofe days had often not only 
to fuffer, but to light for their faith, and in the hymns 
of Altenburg and von Lowenftern we have two that 
may be called battle-fongs of the church. The for- 
mer publiihed his hymn, "Fear not, O little flock, 
the foe,"f in 1631, with this title: "A heart-cheer- 
ing fong of comfort on the watchword of the Evan- 
gelical Army in the battle of Leipfic, September 7th, 
163 1, God with us." It was called Guftavus Adol- 
phus' battle-fong, becaufe the pious hero often fang it 
with his army; and he fang it for the laft time im- 
mediately before the battle of Lutzen. The latter, 
von Lowenftern, was the fon of a faddler, whom the 
Emperor, Ferdinand III. ennobled for his public fer- 
vices : he was at once a ftatefman, poet, and mufician. 
His hymn, "Chrift, Thou the champion of the 
band," I was a favourite of Niebuhr. 

* Pages 129 and 252. f Page 17. 

I Page 105. 



JJrcfatt. xiii 

Another favourite hymn of Niebuhr was the hymn 
to Eternity,* the greater part of which is of very 
ancient but uncertain date. It received its prefent 
form about the middle of the 1 7th century. 

Man-/ of the hymns of Paul Gerhardt belong to 
tins period, though he lived until 1676, long after 
the conclufion of peace. He is without doubt the 
greateft of the German hymn-writers, pofleffing loftier 
poetical genius, and a richer variety of thought and 
feeling than any other. His beautiful hymn, "Com- 
mit thou all thy ways," is already well known to us 
through Wefley's tranflation, and many others of his 
are not inferior to it. He was a zealous preacher for 
feveral years at the Nicolai-Kirche in Berlin; whence 
he retired becaufe he had not fufficient freedom in 
preaching the truth, and became Archdeacon of Lub- 
ben. With him culminated the elder fchool of Ger- 
man facred poetry, a fchool diftinguilhed by its depth 
and Simplicity. Moll of its hymns are either written 
for the high feltivals and fervices of the Church, or 
are expreffive of a fimple Chriftian faith, ready to 
dare or fuffer all things for God's fake. To this 

* Page 24. 



xiv preface. 

fchool we muft refer, from their fpirit, two hymns 
written a little later; thefirft is, "Jefus my Redeemer 
lives,"* one of the moil favourite Eafter hymns, 
written by the pious Electrefs of Brandenburg, who 
founded the Orphan Houfe at Oranienburg. The 
other, "Leave God to order all thy ways,"f was 
written by George Neumarck, Secretary of the Ar- 
chives at Weimar. It fpread rapidly among the com- 
mon people, at firft without the author's name. A 
baker's boy in New Brandenburg ufed to fing it over 
his work, and foon the whole town and neighbour- 
hood flocked to him to learn this beautiful new fong. 
In the latter half of the feventeenth century a new 
fchool was founded by Johann Franck, and Johann 
Schemer, commonly called Angelus. The former 
was burgomafler of Guben in Lufatia; the latter 
phylician to Ferdinand III.; but in 1663 he became 
a Roman Catholic, and afterwards a prieft. The 
pervading idea of this fchool is the longing of the foul 
for that intimate union with the Redeemer of the 
world, which begins with the birth of Chrift in the 
heart, and is perfected after death. This longing 

* Page 93. f Pa g e I 5 2 - 



JJrtfatt » 

breathes through the hymns of Franck given in this 
collection ; one of them, " Redeemer of the nations, 
come," * is a tranflation of the " Veni, Redemptor 
gentium" of St. Ambrofe. Angelus dwells rather on 
the means of attaining this union by the facrifice of 
the Self to God through the great High-prieft of man- 
kind, an idea exprefled in his hymns with peculiar 
tendernefs and fweetnefs. We find much of his fpirit 
and fweetnefs lingering in modern times about the 
few hymns of the gifted Novalis. 

The greateft poet of this fchool is however Ger» 
hardt Terfteegen, who lived during the early part of 
the eighteenth century as a ribbon manufacturer at 
Muhlheim. His hymns have great beauty, and be- 
fpeak a tranquil and childlike foul filled and blefled 
with the contemplation of God. The well-known 
hymn of Weiley's, "Lo God is here! let us adore," 
belongs to him, and in its original fhape is one of the 
moll beautiful he ever wrote, but is frequently met 
with only in a disfigured and mutilated form. To 
this fchool belong a large number of the hymns in 
this collection, among which thofe of Defzler,f an 

* Page 1 86. t Pages 59, 147. 



*vi ftrefcice. 

excellent philologift of Nuremberg, and of Anton 
Ulrich,* the pious and learned Duke of Brunfwick, 
are particularly good. Thofe of Schmolck, the paf- 
tor of Schweidnitz, who exercifed great influence 
over the hymn-writing of his day, have more fimplicity 
than moft of the reft, but are characterifed by a curi- 
ous mixture of real poetry and deep feeling with 
occafional vulgarities of expreflion. The defecls of 
this fchool, which fhowed themfelves ftrongly in the 
courfe of the eighteenth century, were a tendency 
that the feeling fliould degenerate into fentimentality, 
and the devout dwelling of the heart on Chrift's great 
facriiice into companion and gratitude for His phyfi- 
cal fufferings, — defeats which greatly disfigure many 
of the Moravian hymns. In fome of the hymns here 
translated the expreflion " Chrifti Wundenhohle" oc- 
curs, which has been rendered by the blood or crofs 
of Chrift, as being phrafes at once more fcriptural and 
more confonant to our feelings. There were not 
wanting however, even at this period, many hymns fit 
for good foldiers of Jefus Chrift, fuch as "Who feeks 
in weaknefs his excufe," f and others of the fame kind. 

* Pages 145, 159, 220. f Pa g e x 49« 



JJrrface. *** 

Germany is rich in Morning and Evening Hymns, 
and Hymns for the Dying, of which a few are given 
in thefe tranflations. Among thefe is the morning 
hymn of Baron von Canitz : I was not aware until 
after tranflating it that it had been already publifhed 
at the clofe of one volume of Dr. Arnold's fermons. 

The hymn " How bleft to all Thy followers, Lord, 
the road," * was the favourite hymn of Schelling. 

In tranflating thefe hymns the original form has 
been retained with the exception, that Angle rhymes 
are almoft invariably subftituted for the double rhymes 
which the ftru&ure of the language renders fo com- 
mon in German poetry, but which become cloying to 
an Engliih ear when often repeated j and that Engliih 
double common or fhort metre is ufed inftead of what 
may be called the German common metre, the 
fame that we call Gay's ftanza, which is fcarcely 
folemn enough for facred purpofes. In a few 
inftances flight alterations have been made in the 
metre, when, as is the cafe with fome excellent hymns 
in our own language, it is hardly grave and dignified 
enough for the poetry. Thefe alterations are but 
* Page 175. 



™ Prrface. 

ffight, and Teemed juftifiable, fince thefe hymns have 
been tranflated, not fo much as fpecimens of German 
hymn-writing, as in the hope that thefe utterances of 
Chriftian piety which have comforted and ftrength- 
ened the hearts of many true Chriflians in their 
native country, may fpeak to the hearts of fome 
among us, to help and cheer thofe who muft flrive 
and fuffer, and to make us feel afrefh what a deep and 
true Communion of Saints exifts among all the chil- 
dren of God in different churches and lands. 



Alderley Edge, 
July 1 6th, 1855. 






CONTENTS. 

Page 
pRST Sunday in Advent. The Dawn i 
Second Sunday in Advent. The com- 
ing of the Day of the Lord . . 4 
Third Sunday in Advent. Chrift 

the Deliverer j 

Fourth Sunday in Advent. Chrift the King 

of all men 10 

Christmas Eve. A Carol 12 

Christmas Day. The Word made flefh . . 15 
St. Stephen's Day. A Battle-Song in troubled 

Times 17 

St. John the Evangelist. Chrift the Life of 

the Soul 19 

Innocents' Day. The childlike heart ... 22 
Sunday after Christmas Day. The Defire of 

all Nations 24 

Circumcision. A Hymn for New Year's Day 26 
Epiphany. The Manifeftation of the Light of 

the World 30 

First Sunday after Epiphany. The Chriftian 

Sacrifice 32 

Second Sunday after Epiphany. God's Sove- 
reignty our Stronghold of Hope . . . . 33 
Third Sunday after Epiphany. The Word of 

God 36 

Fourth Sunday after Epiphany. A Prayer in 

mental conflict 38 

Fifth Sunday after Epiphany. A Prayer for 

the Prefence of the Spirit of God in the 

Church 41 



xx Contents. 

Sixth Sunday after Epiphany. Afpiration after 

Purity and Holinefs 43 

Septuagesima Sunday. The Chriftian Warfare 46 
Sexagesima Sunday. A Spring Song ... 48 
Quinquagesima Sunday. Love the Root of all 

Excellence 50 

„ „ Chrift opening the 

Eyes of the Blind 53 

Ash Wednesday. A Cry for Mercy ... 55 
First Sunday in Lent. The Lonelinefs and 

Anguifh of Penitence 57 

Second Sunday in Lent. Clinging to Chrift in 

utter need 59 

Third Sunday in Lent. A Warning of Judg- 
ment 61 

Fourth Sunday in Lent. Confeffion of Sin . 63 
Fifth Sunday in Lent. Tarrying for Light and 

Help 65 

Palm Sunday. Chrift's Entry into Jerufalem . 67 
Monday in Passion Week. Chrift Weeping 

over Jerufalem 70 

Tuesday in Passion Week. Chrift's Death our 

Purification 72 

Wednesday in Passion Week. Chrift's Death 

our Redemption 74 

Thursday in Passion Week. Our Requital of 

Chrift's Love 77 

Good Friday. The Crucifixion 80 

„ „ Evening. The Love of God in 

Chrift 83 

Easter Even. Reft in the" Grave . . . . 85 
Easter Day. The Triumph over Death . . 87 
„ „ Evening. The Refurre&ion from 

the Death of Sin 89 

Monday in Easter Week. The Benefits of 

Chrift's Refurre&ion 9 1 

Tuesday in Easter Week. Chrift's Life the 

Source and Pledge of ours 93 



(Contents. 



First Sunday after Easter. The Kingdom of 

Heaven in the midft of us 96 

Second Sunday after Easter. The Good Shep- 
herd 98 

Third Sunday after Easter. A Song of Joy 

after a time of Sorrow 1 oc 

Fourth Sunday after Easter. The Indwelling 

of the Holy Spirit . 103 

Fifth Sunday after Easter. Chrift the Cham- 
pion of His Church 105 

Ascension Day. The Soul longing to be where 

Chrift is ..... , 106 

Sunday after Ascension Day. The Homeward 

Journey 108 

Whit Sunday. The Descent of the Holy Spirit 1 10 

Monday in Whitsun-week. The Spirit of God 

the Spirit of Love, Joy, and Peace . . .113 

Tuesday in Whitsun-week. The Spirit of God 

the Witnefs to His Son 117 

Trinity Sunday. The Fount of Being, the 

Word, the uniting Spirit 1 19 

First Sunday after Trinity. The Love of 

God I2i 

Second Sunday after Trinity. The Love of 

His Children 124 

Third Sunday after Trinity. Peace in Trouble 126 

Fourth Sunday after Trinity. Sharing the 

Crofs and the Crown 129 

Fifth Sunday after Trinity. The Good Sol- 
dier of Chrift . . . • 13c 

Sixth Sunday after Trinity. Self-Surrender 

to God 134 

Seventh Sunday after Trinity. A Summer 

Song 136 

Eighth Sunday after Trinity. The Spirit of 

God the Fountain of Wifdom and Purity . 140 

Ninth Sunday after Trinity. The Choice . 142 



Contents. 



Tenth Sunday after Trinity. Longing of the 

Heart after God 145 

Eleventh Sunday after Trinity. God's Pre- 

fence the Source of all Joy 1 47 

Twelfth Sunday after Trinity. The Sin of 

Weaknefs 149 

Thirteenth Sunday after Trinity. Truft in 

God 152 

Fourteenth Sunday after Trinity. The Crofs 

our Glory 154 

Fifteenth Sunday after Trinity. The Secret 

of Content 156 

Sixteenth Sunday affer Trinity. God's fure 

Help in Sorrow 159 

Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity. The Song 

of the Chriitian Pilgrim 1 61 

Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity. Vow to 

be true to Chrifl in an Age of Apoflacy . 165 
Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity. Living 

Faith 167 

Twenti&th Sunday after Trinity. Rejoicing 

in God the Creator, Redeemer, and Sandti- 

fier 170 

Twenty-first Sunday after Trinity. Luther's 

Pfalm 173 

Twenty-second Sunday after Trinity. The 

Unfearchable Wifdom of God . . . .175 
Twenty-third Sunday after Trinity. Afpi- 

ration after the Life Eternal 1 80 

Twenty-fourth Sunday after Trinity. The 

One Thing Needful 183 

Twenty-fifth Sunday AFrER Trinity. Rejoice, 

the Lord is at hand 1 86 

St. Andrew's Day. Following Chrift . . .188 
St. Thomas the Apostle. The Soul's Joy in 

difcovering Chriit, the link between God 

and Man 191 



Contents. 



Presentation in the Temple. The Song of 

Simeon 193 

St. Matthias. The True Reft 195 

Annunciation. The Happinefs of the Soul that 

has no Will but God's 198 

St. Barnabas. The Merciful Providence of God 200 
St Michael's. The Miniftry of Angels . . 205 
All Saints'. The Company of the Bleft . . 207 

Hymns for the Morning 213 

Hymns for the Evening 225 

For the Sick and Dying 235 

For the Burial of the Dead 249 

Index 255 




&$xa (fknucmka. 

FIRST SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 

The night is far fpent, the day is at hand ; let us 
therefore caft off the works of darknefs, and put on 
the armour of light. — From the Epistle. 

O WATCHMAN, will the night of fin 
Be never paft? 
O watchman, doth the day begin 
To dawn upon thy ftraining fight at lafl? 
Will it difpel 
Ere long the mifts of fenfe wherein I dwell? 

Now all the earth is bright and glad 

With the frefh morn; 
But all my heart is cold and dark and fad; 
Sun of the foul, let me behold Thy dawn ! 

Come Jefus, Lord ! 
Oh quickly come, according to Thy word! 



fi^xa ©mnanica. 



Do we not live in thofe bleft days 

So long foretold, 
When Thou fhouldft come to bring us light 
and grace ? 
And yet I fit in darknefs as of old, 

Pining to fee 
Thy glory ; but Thou ftill art far from me. 

Long fmce Thou cam'ft to be the light 

Of all men here; 
And yet in me is nought but blackeft night. 
Wilt Thou not then to me, Thine own, appear? 

Shine forth and blefs 
My foul with vifion of Thy righteoufnels ! 

If thus in darknefs ever left, 

Can I fulfil 
The works of light, while of all light bereft? 
How Ihall I learn in love and meeknefs ftill 

To follow Thee, 
And all the finful works of darknefs flee ? 

The light of reafon cannot give 

Life to my foul; 
Jems alone can make me truly live, 
One glance of His can make my fpirit whole. 

Arife, and mine 
On this poor longing, waiting heart of mine! 

Single and clear, not weak or blind, 
The eye muft be, 



£j]ra ®*rmamca. 



To which Thy glory fhall an entrance find; 
For if Thy chofen ones would gaze on Thee, 

No earthly fcrecn 
Between their fouls and Thee muft intervene. 

Jefus, do Thou mine eyes unfeal, 

And let them grow 
Quick to difcern whate'er Thou doft reveal, 
So mall I be deliver'd from that woe, 

Blindly to flray 
Through hopelefs night, while all around is day. 

RlCHTER. I7O4. 



£m*a ©rrmamca. 



SECOND SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 

Behold the fig-tree and all the trees ; when they now 
(hoot forth, ye fee and know of your own felves that 
fummer is now nigh at hand. So likewife ye, when ye 
fee that thefe things come to pafs, know ye that the 
kingdom of God is nigh at hand. — From the Gospel. 

AWAKE, thou carelefs world, awake! 
The final day mall furely come ; 
What Heaven hath fixed Time cannot 
fhake, 
It cannot fweep away thy doom. 
Know, what the Lord Himfelf hath fpoken 
Shall come at kit and not delay, 
Though heaven and earth mall pafs away, 
His fteadfait word can ne'er be broken. 

Awake! He comes to judgment, wake! 

Sinners behold His countenance 
In beauty terrible, and quake 

Condemn'd beneath His piercing glance. 
Lo He to whom all power is given, 

Who fits at God's right hand on high, 

In fire and thunder draweth nigh 
To judge all nations under Heaven. 



Curct ©amanica. 



Awake, thou carelefs world, awake ! 

Who knows how foon our God lhall please 
That fuddenly that day lhould break; 

We fathom not fuch depths as thefe. 
O guard thee well from lull and greed, 

For as the bird is in the fnare, 

Or ever of its foe aware, 
So comes that day with filent fpeed. 

The Lord in love delay eth long 
The final day, and grants us fpace 

To turn away from fin and wrong, 

And mourning feek His help and grace. 

He holdeth back that belt of days, 
Until the righteous lhall approve 
Their faith and hope, their conftant love; 

So gentle us-ward are His ways! 

But ye, O faithful fouls, lhall fee 

That morning rife in love and joy; 
Your Saviour comes to fet you free, 

Your Judge lhall all your bonds deftroy ; 
He, the true Jolhua, then lhall bring 

His people with a mighty hand, 

Into their promifed father-land, 
Where fongs of victory they lhall fing. 

Rejoice! the fig-tree Ihows her green, 
The fpringing year is in its prime, 

The little flowers afrelh are feen, 

We gather flrength in this great time. 



ftpva ©ermantca 



The glorious fummer draweth near, 
When all this body's earthly load, 
In light that morning fheds abroad, 

Shall wax as funshine pure and clear. 

Arife, and let us day and night 

Pray in the Spirit ceafelefsly, 
That we may heed our Lord aright, 

And ever in His prefence be. 
Arife, and let us hafte to meet 

The Bridegroom Handing at the door, 

That with the angels evermore 
We too may worihip at His feet. 

Rist. 1 6c* 



£$xa (Ktrtncmfra. 



THIRD SUNDAY IN ADVENT. 

And it (hall be faid in that day; Lo ! this is our 
God, we have waited for Him, and He will fave us; 
this is the Lord, we have waited for Him, and we will 
rejoice in His falvation. — From the Lesson. 

HOW fliall I meet Thee? How my heart 
Receive her Lord aright? 
Defire of all the earth Thou art! 
My hope, my fole delight! 
Kindle the lamp, Thou Lord, alone, 

Half dying in my breaft, 
And make thy gracious pleafure known 
How I may greet Thee beft. 

Her budding boughs and faireft paims 

Thy Zion ftrews around; 
And fongs of praife and fweeteft pfalms 

From my glad heart mail found. 
My defert foul breaks forth in flowers, 

Rejoicing in Thy fame ; 
And puts forth all her fleeping powers 

To honour Jems' name. 

In heavy bonds I languifh'd long, 

Thou com'ft to fet me free; 
The fcorn of every mocking tongue— 

Thou com'ft to honour me. 



Cnra ©ermcmica. 



A heavenly crown Thou doll beftow, 

And gifts of pricelefs worth, 
That vanifh not as here below 

The riches of the earth. 

Nought, nought, dear Lord ! had power to move 

Thee from Thy rightful place, 
Save that almighty wondrous Love 

Wherewith Thou doft embrace 
This weary world and all her woe, 

Her load of grief and ill 
And forrow, more than man can know; 

Thy love is deeper Hill. 

Oh write this promife in your heart, 

Ye fad at heart, with whom 
Sorrows fall thick, and joys depart, 

And darker grows your gloom. 
Defpair not, for your help is near, 

He ftandeth at the door 
Who bell can comfort you and cheer, 

He comes, nor ftayeth more. 

Vex not your fouls with care, nor grieve 

And labour longer thus, 
As though your arm could ought achieve, 

And bring Him down to us! 
He comes, He comes with ready will, 

By pity moved alone, 
All pain to foothe, all tears to ftill, 

To Him they all are known. 






£ma ©crmamcct. 



Ye fhall not fhrink nor turn afide, 

Fearing to fee His face 
So deep your fins, for He will hide 

The darkeft with His grace. 
He comes, He comes, to fave from fin, ' 

All finners to releafe, 
For all the fons of God to win 

The heritage of peace. 

Why afk ye what the wicked faith, 

Why heed his craft and fpite? 
The Lord deflroys him with a breath, 

He Hands not in His fight. 
Chriit comes, He comes, as King to reign! 

Then gather ye His foes, 
From earth's far corners; yet in vain 

Would ye His rule oppofe. 

He comes to judge the earth, and ye 

Who mock'd Him, feel His wrath; 
But they who loved and fought Him fee 

His light o'er all their path. 
O Sun of Righteoufnefs ! arife, 

And guide us on our way, 
To yon fair manfion in the Ikies 

Of joyous, cloudlefs day. 

Paul Gerhardt. 1653 



£gva ©crmantca. 



FOURTH SUNDAY IN ADVENT 

Rejoice in the Lord alway, and again I fay unto you, 
Rejoice . . . The Lord is at hand. — From the Epistle 

LIFT up your heads, ye mighty gates, 
Behold the King of glory waits, 
The King of kings is drawing near, 
The Saviour of the world is here ; 
Life and falvation doth He bring, 
Wherefore rejoice, and gladly ling 
Praife, O my God, to Thee! 
Creator, wife is Thy decree! 

The Lord is juft, a helper tried, 

Mercy is ever at His fide, 

His kingly crown is holinefs, 

His fceptre, pity in diftrefs, 

The end of all our woe He brings; 

Wherefore the earth is glad and lings 

Praife, O my God, to Thee! 

O Saviour, great Thy deeds fhall be! 

Oh, blefl the land, the city bleft, 
Where Chrifl the ruler is confeft ! 
O happy hearts and happy homes 
To whom this King in triumph comes! 



Cttrct ©mnantca. 



The cloudlefs Sun of joy He is, 
Who bringeth pure delight and blifs; 

Praife, O my God, to Thee! 

Comforter, for Thy comfort free ! 

Fling wide the portals of your heart, 

Make it a temple fet apart 

From earthly ufe for Heaven's employ, 

Adorn'd with prayer, and love, and joy; 

So fhall your Sovereign enter in, 

And new and nobler life begin. 
Praife, O my God, be Thine, 
For word, and deed, and grace divine. 

Redeemer, come ! I open wide 

My heart to Thee, here, Lord, abide! 

Let me Thy inner prefence feel, 

Thy grace and love in me reveal, 

Thy Holy Spirit guide us on 

Until our glorious goal be won ! 
Eternal praife and fame, 
Be offer'd, Saviour, to Thy Name ! 

Weiszel. 1635. 



12 £m*ct (PcrniQiura. 

CHRISTMAS EVE. 

A Carol. 

Behold I bring you good tidings of great joy that 
(hall be to all people. — Luke ii. 10. 

FROM heaven above to earth I come 
To bear good news to every home; 
Glad tidings of great joy I bring, 
Whereof I now will fay and ling: 

To you, this night, is born a child 
Of Mary, chofen mother mild; 
This little child, of lowly birth, 
Shall be the joy of all your earth. 

'Tis Chrift our God, who far on high 
Hath heard your fad and bitter cry ; 
Himfelf will your Salvation be, 
Himfelf from fin will make you free. 

He brings thofe blefhngs, long ago 
Preparea by God for all below; 
Henceforth, His kingdom open Hands 
To you, as to the angel bands. 

Thefe are the tokens ye mail mark, 
The fwaddling clothes and manger dark 



Cgra ©mnanica. |3 

There lhall ye find the young child *aid, 
By whom the heavens and earth were made. 

Now let us all with gladfome cheer 
Follow the fhepherds, and draw near. 
To fee this wondrous gift of God 
Who hath His only Son bellowed. 

Give heed, my heart, lift up thine eyes! 
Who is it in yon manger lies? 
Who is this child fo young and fair? 
The blefled Chrift-child lieth there. 

Welcome to earth, Thou noble gueft, 
Through whom e'en wicked men are bleft! 
Thou com'ft to mare our mifery, 
What can we render, Lord, to Thee! 

Ah, Lord, who haft created all, 
How haft Thou made Thee weak and fmall, 
That Thou muft choofe Thy infant bed 
Where afs and ox but lately fed! 

Were earth a thoufand times as fair 
Befet with gold and jewels rare, 
She yet were far too poor to be, 
A narrow cradle, Lord, for Thee. 

For velvets foft and filken fluff 
Thou haft but hay, and ftraw {o rough, 
Whereon Thou king, fo rich and great, 
As 'twere Thv heaven, art throned in ftate. 



H Cgta (Scvmanka. 

Thus hath it pleafed Thee to make plain 
The truth to us poor fools and vain, 
That this world's honour, wealth and might 
Are nought and worthlefs in Thy fight. 

Ah deareft Jefus, Holy Child, 
Make Thee a bed, foft, undefiled, 
Within my heart, that it may be 
A quiet chamber kept for Thee. 

My heart for very joy doth leap, 
My lips no more can filence keep; 
I too mull fing with joyful tongue 
That fweeteft ancient cradle-fong — 

Glory to God in higheft Heaven, 
Who unto man His Son hath given! 
While angels fing with pious mirth 
A glad New Year to all the earth. 

Luther. 
Written for his little fon Hans. 1 540. 



£ma ©crmamca. 15 



CHRISTMAS DAY. 

And the Word was made flefh, and dwelt among us. 
From the Gospel. 

OTHOU effential Word, 
Who from eternity 
Dwelt with the Father and wall God, 
Who art ordain'd to be 
The Saviour of our race; 
Welcome indeed Thou art, 
Blefled Redeemer, Fount of Grace, 
To this my longing heart! 

Come, felf-exiflent Word, 

Within my fpirit fpeak, 
In that bleft foul where Thou art heard 

Peace dwells without a break. 

Light of the world, abide 

Through faith within my heart, 
Leave me to feek no other guide, 

Nor e'er from Thee depart. 

Why didft thou leave Thy throne, 

O Jefus, what could bring 
Thee to a world where e'en Thine own 

Knew not their rightful King? 

Thy love beyond all thought, 

Stronger than Death or Hell, 
And my deep woe, this wonder wrought 

That Thou on earth doft dwell. 



* 6 £ma ©ormcmtca. 

Wherefore I fain would give 

My heart and foul, dear Lord, 
To ferve Thee only while I live 

And fpread Thy fame abroad. 
■ O Jefus, take away 

This ftony heart of mine ! 
Give me another heart, I pray, 

That mall be wholly Thine. 

Let nought be left within 

But cometh of Thy hand; 
Root quickly out the weeds of fin, 

My cunning foe withfland. 

From Thee comes nothing ill, 

'Tis he doth fet the tares; 
Make plain my path before me ftill, 

Save me from all his fnares. 

Thou art the Life, O Lord! 

Sole Light of Life Thou art! 
Let not Thy glorious rays be pour'd 

In vain on my dark heart. 

Star of the Eaft, arife ! 

Drive all my clouds away, 
Guide me till earth's dim twilight dies 

Into the perfedl day! 

Laurenti. i 700. 



£,ma ®n*mcmica. '7 



ST. STEPHEN'S DAY. 

I have feen, I have feen the afflictions of my people. 
From the Lesson. 

FEAR not, O little flock, the foe 
Who madly feeks your overthrow, 
Dread not his rage and power. 
What though your courage fometimes 
faints, 
His feeming triumph o'er God's faints 
Lafts but a little hour. 

Be of good cheer; your caufe belongs 
To Him who can avenge your wrongs, 

Leave it to Him our Lord. 
Though hidden yet from all our eyes, 
He fees the Gideon who fhall rife 

To fave us, and His word. 

As true as God's own word is true, 
Not earth or hell with all their crew 

Againft us fhall prevail. 
A jeft and byword are they grown; 
God is with us, we are His own, 

Our victory cannot fail. 



»6 €ma ©nrmantca. 

Amen, Lord Jefus, grant our prayer: 
Great Captain, now Thine arm make bare; 

Fight for us once again! 
So fhall The faints arid martyrs raife 
A mighty chorus to Thy praife, 

World without end. Amen. 

Altei burg. » 

Guftavus Adolphus' Battle-fong. 1 63 1 . 



trsxa ©ermanica 19 



ST. JOHN THE EVANGELIST. 

If I will that he tarry till I come, what is that to 
thee ? Follow thou me. — From the Gospel. 

IF Thou, True Life, wilt in me live, 
Confume whate'er is not of Thee ; 
One look of Thine more joy can give 
Than all the world can offer me. 
O Jefus, be Thou mine for ever, 
Nought from Thy Love my heart can fever, 
That Thou haft promifed in Thy Word; 
Oh deep the joy whereof I drink, 
Whene'er my foul in Thee can fink, 
And own her Bridegroom and her Lord. 

O Heart, that glow'd with love and died, 

Kindle my foul with fire divine; 
Lord, in the heart Thou'ft won, abide, 

And all in it that is not Thine 
Oh let me conquer and deftroy, 
Strong in Thy love, Thou Fount of Joy. 
Nay, be Thou conqueror, Lord, in me; 

So fhall I triumph o'er defpair, 

O'er death itfelf Thy victory fhare, 
Thus fufFer, live, and die in Thee. 



Cnra ©crmamca. 



And let the fire within me move 

My heart to ferve Thy members here ; 

Let me their need and trials prove, 
That I may know my love fincere 

And like to Thine, Lord, pure and warm; 

For when my foul hath won that form 

Is likeft to Thy holy mind, 

Then I fhall love both friends and foes, 
And learn to grieve o'er others' woes, 

Like Thee, my Pattern, true and kind. 

The light and ftrength of faith, oh grant, 

That I may bring forth holy fruit, 
A living branch, a blooming plant, 

Fail clinging to my vine — my root. 
Thou art my Saviour, whom I truft, 
My Rock, — I build not on the dull, — 
The ground of faith, eternal, fure. 

When hours of doubt o'ercloud my mind, 

Thy ready help then let me find, 
Thy ftrength my fickening fpirit cure. 

Nor let my hope e'er fade away, — 
Thy crofs the anchor of my heart, — 

But let her rife o'er fear, difmay, 

Conqueror through Thee; mine All Thou art. 

The world may build on what decays, 

O Chrift, my Sun of Hope, my gaze 

Cares not o'er lefler lights to range ; 
To Thee, in Love, I ever cleave, 
For well I know Thou ne'er wilt leave 

My foul, Thy love can never change. 



£$va ©armcmica. 



Wouldft Thou that I mould tarry here, 

I live becaufe Thou willeft it: 
Or Death ihould fuddenly appear, 

I fhall not fear him, Lord, one whit, 
If but Thy Life Hill in me live ; 
Thy holy death my ftrength fhall give 
When earthly life draws near its end; 

To Thee I give away my will, 

In life and death remembering ftill 
Thou feek'ft my good, O trueft Friend. 

SlNOLD. 1 7IO. 



£m*a ©£i*manica. 



INNOCENTS , DAY. 

Except ye be converted, and become as little chil- 
dren, ye fliall not enter into the kingdom of Heaven. 
Matt, xviii. 3. 



D 



EAR Soul, couldft thou become a child 
While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, 
Then God Himfelf were ever near, 
And Paradife around thee here. 



A child cares nought for gold or treafure, 
Nor fame nor glory yield him pleafure; 
In perfect truft, he afketh not 
If rich or poor mall be his lot. 

Little he recks of dignity, 
Nor prince nor monarch feareth he; 
Strange that a child fo weak and fmall 
Is oft the boldeft of us all! 

He hath not fkill to utter lies, 
His very foul is in his eyes; 
Single his aim in all, and true, 
And apt to praife what others do. 

No queftions dark his fpirit vex, 
No faithlefs doubts his foul perplex, 
Simply from day to day he lives, 
Content with what the prefent gives. 



Cnra @n*mamca. 



Scarce can he Hand alone, far lefs 
Would roam abroad in lonelinefs; 
Faft clinging to his mother ftill, 
She bears and leads him at her will. 

He will not flay to paufe and choofe, 
His Father's guidance e'er refufe, 
Thinks not of danger, fears no harm, 
Wrapt in obedience' holy calm. 

For flrange concerns he careth nought; 
What others do, although were wrought 
Before his eyes the worfl offence, 
Stains not his tranquil innocence. 

His dearefl work, his bell delight, 
Is, lying in his mother's light, 
To gaze forever on her face, 
And neflle in her fond embrace. 

O childhoods innocence! the voice 
Of thy deep wifdom is my choice ! 
Who hath thy lore is truly wife, 
And precious in our Father's eyes. 

Spirit of childhood ! loved of God, 
By Jems' Spirit now bellowed; 
How often have I long'd for thee; 
O Jefus, form Thyfelf in me ! 

And help me to become a child 
While yet on earth, meek, undefiled, 
That I may find God always near, 
And Paradife around me here. 

Gerhardt Tersteegen. i 73 1. 



2 4 Crjva ®mnamca. 



SUNDAY AFTER CHRISTMAS DAY. 

Behold a Virgin fhall be with child, and fhall bring 
forth a Son, and they fhall call his name Emmanuel, 
which being interpreted is, God with us. 

From the Gospel. 



THEE, O Immanuel, we praife, 
The Prince of Life, and Fount of Grace, 
The Morning Star, the Heavenly 
Flower, 
The Virgin's Son, the Lord of Power! 

With all Thy faints, Thee, Lord, we ling, 
Praife, honour, thanks to Thee we bring, 
That Thou, O long-expe&ed gueft, 
Haft come, at laft to make us bleft! 

E'er fince the world began to be, 
How many a heart hath longed for Thee; 
Long years our fathers hoped of old 
Their eyes might yet Thy Light behold. 

The prophets cried: "Ah, would He came 
To break the fetters of our ihame; 
That help from Zion came to men, 
Ifrael were glad, and profper'd then!" 






Cgra (5n*mantca. 



Now art Thou here; we know Thee now 
In lowly manger lieft Thou ; 
A child, yet makeft all things great, 
Poor, yet is earth Thy robe of Hate. 

All heavens are Thine, yet Thou doll come 
To fojourn in a Granger's home; 
Thou hangeft on Thy mother's breaft 
Who art the joy of fpirits bleft. 

Now fearlefs I can look on Thee, 
From iin and grief Thou lett'ffc me free ; 
Thou bearefl wrath, Thou conquereil Death. 
Fear turns to joy Thy glance beneath. 

Thou art my Head, my Lord Divine, 
I am Thy member, wholly Thine, 
And in Thy Spirit's ftrength would Hill 
Serve Thee according to Thy will. 

Thus will I ling Thy praifes here 
With joyful fpirit year by year; 
And they fhall found before Thy throne, 
Where time nor number more are known. 

Paul Gerhardt. 1650, 



1 6 Cnm ©erm antra. 



THE CIRCUMCISION OF CHRIST. 

Hymn for New Year's Day. 

So teach us to number our days that we may apply 
our hearts unto wifdom. — Psalm xc. 12. 

ETERNITY! Eternity! 
How long art thou, Eternity ! 
And yet to thee Time haftes away, 
Like as the warhorfe to the fray, 
Or fwift as couriers homeward go, 
Or fhip to port, or fhaft from bow. 
Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 

Eternity! Eternity! 
How long art thou, Eternity ! 
For even as on a perfect fphere 
End nor beginning can appear, 
Even fo, Eternity, in thee 
Entrance nor Exit can there be. 
Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 

Eternity! Eternity! 

How long art thou, Eternity ! 

A circle infinite art thou, 

Thy centre an Eternal Now, 

Never, we name thy outward bound, 

For never end therein is found. 

Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 



Cflrct ©nrmamca. 



Eternity ! Eternity ! 

How long art thou, Eternity! 

A little bird with fretting beak 

Might wear to nought the loftieft peak, 

Though but each thoufand years it came, 

Yet thou wert then, as now, the fame. 

Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 

Eternity! Eternity! 
How long art thou, Eternity ! 
As long as God is God, fo long 
Endure the pains of hell and wrong, 
So long the joys of heaven remain; 
Oh lafting joy, Oh lafting pain! 
Ponder, O Man, Eternity ! 

Eternity! Eternity! 

How long art thou, Eternity ! 

O Man, full oft thy thoughts mould dwell 

Upon the pains of fin and hell, 

And on the glories of the purej 

That both beyond all time endure. 

Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 

Eternity! Eternity! 
How long art thou, Eternity ! 
How terrible art thou in woe, 
How fair where joys for ever glow ! 
God's goodnefs flieddeth gladnefs here, 
His juftice there wakes bitter fear. 
Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 



28 Cgra (Btxmanka. 

Eternity! Eternity! 
How long art thou, Eternity! 
They who lived poor and naked reft 
With God for ever rich and bleft, 
And love and praife the higheft good, 
In perfect blifs and gladfome mood. 
Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 

Eternity! Eternity! 
How long art thou, Eternity ! 
A moment lafls all joy below, 
Whereby man links to endlefs woe, 
A moment lalls all earthly pain, 
Whereby an endlefs joy we gain. 
Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 

Eternity! Eternity! 

How long aTt thou, Eternity! 

Who ponders oft on thee is wife, 

All flefhly lufts mail he defpife, 

The world finds place with him no more; 

The love of vain delights is o'er. 

Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 

Eternity! Eternity! 

How long art thou, Eternity! 

Who marks thee well would fay to God, 

Here, judge, burn, fmite me with Thy rod, 

Here, let me all Thy juftice bear, 

When time of grace is part, then fpare ! 

Ponder, O Man, Eternity! 



Cgra ©a*matuca. 29 

Eternity! Eternity! 

How long art thou, Eternity! 

Lo, I, Eternity, warn thee, 

O Man, that oft thou think on me, 

The tinner's punifhment and pain, 

To them who love their God, rich gain! 

Ponder, O Man, Eternity ! 

WULFFER. 1 648. 



*o Cgra ®mnamca. 



epiphany. 

Arife, fhine, for thy light is come, and the glory of 
the Lord is rifen upon thee ! — From the Lesson. 

ALL ye Gentile lands awake! 
Thou, O Salem, rife and fhine! 
See the day-fpring o'er you break, 
Heralding a morn divine, 
Telling, God hath calTd to mind 
Thofe who long in darknefs pined. 

Lo ! the fhadows flee away, 

For our Light is come at length, 

Brighter than all earthly day, 

Source of being, life, and flrength! 

Whofo on this Light would gaze 

Muft forsake all evil ways. 

Ah how blindly did we flray 

Ere fhone forth this glorious Sun, 

Seeking each his feparate way, 

Leaving Heaven unfought, unwon ; 

All our looks were earthwards bent, 

All our flrength on earth was fpent. 

Earthly were our thoughts and low, 
In the toils of Folly caught, 



£$xa ©crmamca. 3i 

Tofs'd of Satan to and fro, 

Counting goodnefs all for nought ; 
By the world and flefh deceived, 
Heaven's true joys we disbelieved. 

Then were hidden from our eyes 

All the law and grace of God ; 
Small and great, the fools and wife, 

Wanting light to find the road 
Leading to the heavenly life, 
Wander'd loft in care and ftrife. 

But the glory of the Lord 

Hath arifen on us to day ! 
We have feen the light outpour'd 

That muft furely drive away 
All things that to night belong, 
All the fad earth's woe and wrong. 

Thy arifing, Lord, mall fill 

All my thoughts in forrow's hour ; 

Thy arifing, Lord, mall ftill 

All my dread of Death's dark power: 

Through my fmiles and through my tears 

Still Thy light, O Lord, appears. 

Let me, Lord, in peace depart 

From this evil world to Thee 
Where thyfelf fole Brightnefs art, 

Thou haft kept a place for me : 
In the radiant city there 
Crowns of light Thy faints mall wear. 

Rist. 1655. 



3 2 £m*ct ©mnanica. 



FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 

I befeech ye therefore, brethren, by the mercies of 
God, that ye prefent your bodies a living facrifice, 
holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reafonable 
fervice. — From the Epistle. 

GREAT High-prieft, who deigndft to be 
Once the facrifice for me, 
Take this living heart of mine, 
Lay it on Thy holy fhrine. 

Love I know accepteth nought, 

Save what Thou, O Love, haft wrought ; 

Offer Thou my facrifice, 

Elfe to God it cannot rife. 

Slay in me the wayward will, 
Earthly fenfe and paffion kill, 
Tear felf-love from out my heart, 
Though it coll me bitter fmart. 

Kindle, mighty Love, the pyre, 
Quick confume me in thy fire, 
Fain were I of felf bereft, 
Nought but Thee within me left. 

So may God the Righteous brook 
On my facrifice to look ; 
In whofc fight no gift has worth 
Save a Chriil-like life on earth. 

Angelus. 1657. 



fnra ©armcm'tca. 33 



SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 

Lift up your eyes unto the heavens, and look upon 
the earth beneath ; for the heavens fhall vanifti away 
like fmoke, and the earth fhall wax old like a garment, 
and the people that dwell therein mail die in like man- 
ner ; but my falvation fhall be forever, and my right- 
eoufnefs fhall not be abolifhed. — From the Lesson. 

| OD liveth ever ! 

Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never! 
Our God is good, in every place 

His love is known, His help is found, 
His mighty arm, and tender grace 

Bring good from ills that hem us round. 
Eafier than we think can He 
Turn to joy our agony. 
Soul, remember 'mid thy pains, 
God o'er all for ever reigns. 

God liveth ever ! 
Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never ! 
Say, fhall He flumber, fhall He fleep, 
Who gave the eye its power to fee ? 
Shall He not hear His children weep 
Who made the ear fo wondroufly? 

God is God; He fees and hears 
All their troubles, all their tears. 
Soul, forget not 'mid thy pains, 
God o'er all for ever reigns. 



34 £2 ra ©^mantra. 

God liveth ever! 
Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never ! 
He who can earth and heaven control, 

Who fpreads the clouds o'er Tea and land, 
Whofe prefence fills the mighty Whole, 
In each true heart is clofe at hand. 

Love Him, He will iiirely fend 
Help and joy that never end. 
Soul, remember in thy pains, 
God o'er all for ever reigns. 

God liveth ever ! 
Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never ! 
Scarce canft thou bear thy crofs? Then fly 

To Him where only reft is fweet; 
Thy God is great, His mercy nigh, 
His ftrength upholds the tottering feet. 

Truft Him, for His grace is fure, 
Ever doth His truth endure; 
Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
God o'er all for ever reigns. 

God liveth ever! 
O my Soul, defpair thou never ! 
When fins and follies long forgot 

Upon thy tortured conscience prey, 
O come to God, and fear Him not, 
His love mall fweep them all away. 
Pains of hell at look of His, 
Change to calm content and blifs. 
Soul, forget not in thy pain, 
God o'er all doth ever reign. 



£$xa (BzYmamta. 



God liveth ever! 
Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never! 
Thofe whom the thoughtlefs world forfakes, 

Who ftand bewilder'd with their woe, 
God gently to His bofom takes, 

And bids them all His fulnefs know. 
In thy forrows' fwelling flood 
Own His hand who feeks thy good. 
Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
God o'er all for ever reigns. 

God liveth ever ! 
Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never ! 
Let earth and heaven outworn with age, 
Sink to the chaos whence they came; 
Let angry foes againft us rage, 

Let hell moot forth his fierceft flame; 

Fear not Death, nor Satan's thrufls, 
God defends who in Him trufts ; 
Soul, remember in thy pains, 
God o'er all for ever reigns. 

God liveth ever! 
Wherefore, Soul, defpair thou never! 
What though thou tread with bleeding feet 

A thorny path of grief and gloom, 
Thy God will choofe the way moll meet 
To lead thee heavenwards, lead thee home. 
For this life's long night of fadnefs 
He will give thee peace and gladnefs. 
Soul, forget not in thy pains, 
God o'er all for ever reigns. 

Zihn. 1682 



*6 £ma ©ermamca. 



THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 

For as the rain cometh down, and the fnow from 
heaven ; and returneth not thither, but watereth the 
earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may 
give feed to the fower, and bread to the eater : fo fhall 
my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth : it (hall 
not return unto me void, but it fhall accomplifh that 
which I pleafe, and it fhall profper in the thing where- 
to I fent it. — From the Lesson. 

THY Word, O Lord, like gentle dews. 
Falls foft on hearts that pine; 
Lord, to Thy garden ne'er refufe 

This heavenly balm of Thine. 
Water'd from Thee 
Let every tree 
Bud forth and bloflbm to Thy praife, 
And bear much fruit in after days. 

Thy Word is like a flaming fword, 

A wedge that cleaveth ftone; 
Keen as a fire fo burns Thy Word, 
And pierceth flcfh and bone. 
Let it go forth 
O'er all the earth, 
To purify all hearts within, 
And matter all the might of fin. 



€ma ©rnncmka. 3? 

Thy Word a wondrous guiding liar, 

On pilgrim hearts doth rife, 
Leads to their Lord who dwell afar, 
And makes the fimple wife. 
Let not its light 
E'er fink in night, 
But ftill in every fpirit mine, 
That none may mifs Thy light divine. 

Anon. 



3 8 Cgra ©trmanka. 



FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 

And he faith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of 
little faith ? Then he arofe and rebuked the winds 
and the fea, and there was a great calm. — From thb 
Gospel. 

MY God ! lo here before Thy face 
I call me in the dull ; 
Where is the hope of happier days, 
Where is my wonted trull? 
Where are the funny hours I had 

Ere of Thy light bereft? 
Vanilh'd is all that made me glad, 
My pain alone is left. 

I fhrink with fear and fore alarm 

When threatening ills I fee, 
As in mine hour of need Thine arm 

No more could fhelter me; 
As though Thou couldfl not fee the grief 

That makes my courage quail, 
As though Thou wouldft not fend relief, 

When human helpers fail. 

Cannot Thy might avert e'en now 

What feems my certain doom, 
And Hill with light and fuccour bow 

To him who weeps in gloom? 



Ctira ©rnnantca. 39 

Art Thou not evermore the fame? 

Haft not Thyfelf revealed 
In Holy Writ, that we may claim 

Thee for our ftrength and fhield? 

Father, compafs me about 
With love, for I am weak; 

Forgive, forgive my fmful doubt, 

Thy pitying glance I feek; 
For torn and anguifh'd is my heart, 

Thou feeft it, my God, 
Oh foothe my confcience' bitter finart, 

Lift off my forrows' load. 

1 know Thy thoughts are peace toward me, 

Safe am I in Thy hands, 
Could I but firmly build on Thee, 

For fure Thy counfel ftands! 
Whate'er Thy Word hath promifed, all 

Wilt Thou full furely give; 
Wherefore from Thee I will not fall, 

Thy Word doth make me live. 

Though mountains crumble into duft, 

Thy covenant ftandeth fall ; 
Who follows Thee in pious truft, 

Shall reach the goal at laft. 
Though ftrange and winding feem the way 

While yet on earth I dwell, 
In heaven my heart {hall gladly fay, 

Thou, God, doft all things well! 



*° Cnva ©armcmica. 

Take courage then, my foul, nor fleep 

Thy days and nights in tears, 
Soon fhalt thou ceafe to mourn and weep, 

Though dark are now thy fears. 
He comes, He comes, the Strong to fave, 

He comes nor tarries more, 
His light is breaking o'er the wave, 
The clouds and ftorms are o'er. 

Drewes. 1797. 



£ma ©ormcmica. 4* 



FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 

Oh that Thou wouldeft rend the heavens, that Thou 
wouldeft come down, that the mountains might flow- 
down at Thy prefence . . . To make Thy name known 
to Thine adverfaries, that the nations may tremble at 
Thy prefence. — From the Lesson. 

AWAKE, Thou Spirit, who of old 
Didft fire the watchmen of the Church's 
youth, 
Who faced the foe, unfhrinking, bold, 
Who witnefs'd day and night the eternal truth, 
Whofe voices through the world are ringing frill, 
And bringing hofls to know and do Thy will! 

Oh that Thy fire were kindled foon, 
That fwift from land to land its flame might leap I 

Lord, give us but this pricelefs boon 
Of faithful fervants, fit for Thee to reap 
The harvefl of the foul; look down and view 
How great the harvefl, yet the labourers few. 

Lord, let our earneft prayer be heard, 
The prayer Thy Son Himfelf hath bid us pray; 

For lo ! Thy children's hearts are flirr'd 
In every land in this our darkening day, 
To cry for help with fervent foul to Thee, 
Oh hear us, Lord, and fpeak, Thus let it be! 



£gra ©mnantca. 



Oh hafte to help ere we are loft ! 
Send forth evangelifts, in fpirit ftrong, 

Arm'd with Thy Word, a dauntlefs hoft, 
Bold to attack the rule of ancient wrong; 
And let them all the earth for Thee reclaim, 
To be Thy kingdom, and to know Thy name. 

Would there were help within our walls! 
Oh let Thy promifed Spirit come again, 

Before whom every barrier falls, 
And ere the night once more fhine forth as then! 
Oh rend the heavens and make Thy prefence felt, 
The chains that bind us at Thy touch would melt ! 

And let Thy Word have fpeedy course, 
Through every land the truth be glorified, 

Till all the heathen know its force, 
And gather to Thy churches far and wide; 
And waken Ifrael from her fleep, O Lord ! 
Thus blefs and fpread the conquefts of Thy Wore ! 

The Church's defert paths reftore, 
And ftumbling-blocks that long in them have lain, 

Hinder Thy Word henceforth no more; 
Deftroy falfe doctrine, root out notions vain, 
Set free from hirelings, let the Church and fchool 
Bloom as a garden 'neath Thy profpering rule ! 

BOGATZKY. 1727. 



Cgra ©mnamca. 43 



SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER EPIPHANY. 

Every man that hath this hope in him purifieth him- 
felf even as He is pure. — From the Epistle. 

PURE Effence! Spotlefs Fount of Light, 
That fadeth never into dark! 
O Thou, whofe eyes, more clear and bright 
Than noonday fun, are quick to mark 
Our fins; lo, bare before Thy face 
Lies all the defert of my heart, 
My once fair foul in every part 
Now ftain'd with evil foul and bafe. 

Since but the pure in heart are bleft, 

With promifed viiion of their God, 
Sore fear and anguifh fill my breaft, 

Remembering all the ways I trod; 
Mourning I fee my loft eftate, 

And yet in faith I dare to cry, 

O let my evil nature die, 
Another heart in me create ! 

Enough, Lord, that my foe too well 
Hath lured me once away from Thee; 

Henceforth I know his craft how fell, 
And all his deep-laid fnares I flee. 



44 Cgrct ®trmanica. 

Lord, through the Spirit whom Thy Son 
Hath bidden us in prayer to afk, 
Arm us with might that every talk, 

Whate'er we do, in Thee be done. 

Unworthy am I of Thy grace, 

So deep are my tranfgreflions, Lord, 

And yet once more I feek Thy face; 
My God, have mercy, nor reward 

My deepen'd fins, my follies vainj 
Reject, rejedl me not in wrath, 
But let Thy funfhine now beam forth, 

And quicken me with hope again. 

The Holy Spirit Thou hall given, 
The wondrous pledge of love divine, 

Who fills our hearts with joys of heaven, 
And bids us earthly toys refign; 

O let His feal be on my heart, 
O take Him never more away, 
Until this flefhly houfe decay, 

And Thou malt bid me hence depart. 

But ah! my coward fpirit droops, 
Sick with the fear that enters in 

Whene'er a foul to bondage Hoops, 
And wears the fhameful yoke of fin ; 

Oh quicken with the ftrength that flows 
From forth the Eternal Fount of Life, 
My foul half-fainting in the ftrife, 

And make an end of all my woes. 



Cgra <&txmamta. 45 

I cling unto Thy grace alone, 

Thy fteadfaft oath my only re!l; 
To Thee, Heart-fearcher, all is kr.own 

That lieth hidden in my breaft ; 
Thy gladnefs, Spirit, on me pour, 

Thy ready will my floth infpire, 

So mall I have my heart's defire, 
And ferve and praife Thee evermore. 

Freylinghausen. i 7 i 3. 



46 Cgra <E>n*mcmica. 



SEPTUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 

I therefore fo run, not as uncertainly; so fight I, 
not as one that beateth the air. — From the Epistle. 

STRIVE, when thou art calTd of God, 
When He draws thee by His grace, 
Strive to call away the load 
That would clog thee in the race ! 

Fight, though it may coll thy life, 
Storm the kingdom, but prevail, 

Let not Satan's fiercell flrife 

Make thee, warrior, faint or quail. 

Wreflle, till through every vein 

Love and flrength are glowing warm, 

Love, that can the world difdain, 
Half-love will not bide the ilorm. 

Wreflle, with flrong prayers and cries, 
Think no time too much to fpend, 

Though the night be pafs'd in lighs, 
Though all day thy voice afcend. 

Hall thou won the pearl of price, 
Think not thou hall reach'd the goal, 

Conquer'd every fin and vice 

That had power to harm thy foul. 



Cgra (fermatuca. 



Gaze with mingled joy and fear 
On the refuge thou haft found ; 

Know, while yet we linger here 
Perils ever hem us round. 

Art thou faithful? then oppose 

Sin and wrong with all thy might ; 

Care not how the tempeft blows, 
Only care to win the fight. 

Art thou faithful ? Wake and watch, 
Love with all thy heart Chrift's ways, 

Seek not tranfient eafe to fnatch, 
Look not for reward or praife. 

Art thou faithful? Stand apart 
From all worldly hope and pleafure, 

Yonder fix your hopes and heart, 

On the heaven where lies our treafure. 

Soldiers of the Crofs, be ftrong, 
Watch and war 'mid fear and pain, 

Daily conquering woe and wrong, 
Till our King o'er earth fhall reign ! 

Winkler. 1703. 



4 8 £m*a (Bcrmamca. 



SEXAGESIMA SUNDAY. 

Let them praife the name of the Lord, for His name 
alone is excellent ; His glory is above the earth and 
heaven. — Psalm cxlviii. 13. 

NOTHING fair on earth I fee 
But I ftraightway think on Thee ; 
Thou art faireft in my eyes, 
Source in whom all beauty lies! 

When I fee the reddening dawn 
And the golden fun of morn, 
Quickly turns this heart of mine 
To Thy glorious form divine. 

Oft I think upon Thy light 
When the grey morn breaks the night; 
Think, what glories lie in Thee, 
Light of all Eternity ! 

When I fee the moon arife 
'Mid Heaven's thoufand golden eyes, 
Then I think, more glorious far 
Is the Maker of yon ftar. 

Or I think in fpring's fweet hours, 
When the Helds are gay with flowers, 
As their varied hues I fee, 
What mull their Creator be! 



Cjjra ©a-mamca. 49 

When along the brook I wander, 

Or befide the fountain ponder, 

Straight my thoughts take wing and mount 

Up to Thee, the pureft Fount. 

Sweetly rings the nightingale, 
Sweet the flute's foft plaintive tale, 
Sweeter than their richer! tone, 
Is the name of Mary's Son. 

Sweetly all the air is ftirr'd 
When the Echo's call is heard; 
But no founds my heart rejoice 
Like to my Beloved's voice. 

Come then, fairer! Lord, appear, 
Come, let me behold Thee here, 
I would fee Thee face to face, 
On Thy proper light would gaze. 

Take away thefe veils that blind, 
Jefus, all my foul and mind; 
Henceforth ever let my heart 
See Thee truly as Thou art ! 

Angelus. 1657. 



5° £gra ©ermanua. 



QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 

And now abideth faith, hope, chanty, thefe three ; 
but the greateft of thefe is charity. — From the Epis- 
tle. 

MANY a gift did Christ impart, 
Nobleft of them all is Love; 
Love, a balm within the heart 
That can all its pains remove ; 
Love, a liar moft bright and pure; 
Love, a gem of pricelefs worth, 
Richer than man knows on earth; 
Love, like beauty, ftrong to lure; 
Love, like joy, makes man her thrall, 
Strong to pleafe and conquer all. 

Love can give us all things ; here 

Ufe and beauty cannot fever ; 
Love can raife us to that fphere 

Whence the foul tends heavenwards ever; 
Though one fpake with angel tongues 

Braveft words of ftrength and fire, 

If no love his heart infpire, 
They are but as fleeting fongs; 
All his eloquence mall pafs, 
A.s the noife of founding brafs. 



£ma ©mnanico. 



Keen-eyed fcience' fearching glance, 

All the wifdom of the world, 
Myfleries that the foul entrance, 

Faith that mighty hills had hurl'd 
From their ancient feats ; — all this, 

Wherein man takes moll his pride, 

Valuelefs is call afide, 
If the fpirit there we mifs, 
That can work from love alone, 
Not from pride in what is known. 

Though I lavifh'd all I have 

On the poor in charity; 
Though I Ihrank not from the grave, 

Or unmoved the flake could fee; 
Though my body here were given 

To the all-confuming flame; 

If my mind were flill the fame, 
Meeter were I not for heaven, 
Till by Love my works were crown'd, 
Till in Love my flrength were found. 

Faith muil conquer, hope mufl bloom, 
As our onward way we wend, 

Elfe we came not through the gloom, 
But with earth they alfo end. 

Thou, O Love, doll llretch afar 
Through the wide eternity, 
And the foul array'd in Thee ■ 

Shines for ever as a liar. 
Faith and hope mull pafs away, 
Thou, O Love, endurell aye. 



S 2 £gra ©ermctnicct. 



Come, Thou Spirit of pure Love, 

Who doll forth from God proceed, 
Never from my heart remove, 

Let me all Thy impulfe heed; 
All that feeks felf-profit first, 
Rather than another's good, 
Whether foe or Hnk'd in blood, 
Let me hold fuch thought accurfl; 
And my heart henceforward be 
Ruled, infpired, O Love, by Thee! 

Ernst Lange. i 7 1 1 . 



Cgva ©cnncmka. 53 



QUINQUAGESIMA SUNDAY. 

A nd Jesus faid unto him, Receive thy fight ; thy 
faith hath faved thee. And immediately he received 
his fight, and followed him, glorifying God. — From 
the Gospel. 



M 



Y Saviour, what Thou didft of old, 
When Thou waft dwelling here, 
Thou doeft yet for them, who bold 
In faith to Thee draw near. 
As Thou hadft pity on the blind, 

According to Thy Word, 
Thou fufferedft me Thy grace to find, 
Thy Light haft on me pour'd. 

Mourning I fat befide the way, 

In fightlefs gloom apart, 
And fadnefs heavy on me lay, 

And longing gnaw'd my heart; 
I heard the mulic of the pfalms 

Thy people fang to Thee, 
I felt the waving of their palms, 

And yet I could not fee. 

My pain grew more than I could bear, 

Too keen my grief became, 
Then I took heart in my defpair 

To call upon Thy name; 



5+ £m*a ©crmamca. 

" O Son of David, fave and heal, 
As Thou fo oft haft done ! 

deareft Jefus, let me feel 
My load of darknefs gone." 

And ever weeping as I fpoke 

With bitter prayers and fighs, 
My ftony heart grew foft and broke, 

More earneft yet my cries. 
A fudden anfwer ftill'd my fear, 

For it was faid to me, 
"O poor blind man, be of good cheer, 

Rejoice, He calleth thee." 

1 felt, Lord, that Thou ftoodeft ftill, 

Groping Thy feet I fought, 
From off me fell my old felf-will, 

A change came o'er my thought. 
Thou faidft, " What is it Thou wouldft have ?" 

"Lord, that I might have fight j 
To fee Thy countenance I crave : " 

" So be it, have thou Light." 

And words of Thine can never fail, 

My fears are paft and o'er; 
My foul is glad with light, the veil 

Is on my heart no more. 
Thou blefTeft me, and forth I fare 

Free from my old difgrace, 
And follow on with joy where'er 

Thy footfteps, Lord, I trace. 

De la Mothe Foucjue. 



&$va <B>n*mcmka. 55 



ASH WEDNESDAY. 

Gather the people . . and let the priefts, the minifters 
of the Lord, weep between the porch and the altar, and 
let them fay, Spare Thy people, O Lord.— From thb 
Passage for the Epistle. 

NOT in anger finite us, Lord, 
Spare Thy people, fpare ! 
If Thou mete us due reward 

We muft all defpair. 
Let the flood 
Of Jems' blood 
Quench the flaming of Thy wrath, 
That our fin enkindled hath. 

Father ! Thou haft patience long 

With the fick and weak; 
Heal us, make us brave and ftrong, 
Words of comfort fpeak. 
Touch my foul, 
And make me whole 
With Thy healing precious balm; 
Ward off all would work me harm. 

Weary am I, Lord, and worn 

With my ceafelefs pain ; 
Sad the heart that night and morn 

Sighs for help in vain. 



5 6 fLgva ©crmamca. 

Wilt Thou yet 

My foul forget, 
Waiting anxioufly for Thee 
In the cave of mifery ? 

Hence, ye foes! God hears my prayej 

From His holy place ; 
Once again with hope I dare 
Come before His face. 
Satan flee, 
Hell touch not me ; 
God hath given me power o'er all, 
Who once mock'd and fought my fall. 

Albinus. 1652. 



Cnra ©armcm'tca. 57 



FIRST SUNDAY IN LENT. 

Then was Jefus led up of the Spirit into the wilder- 
nefs to be tempted of the devil. And he failed forty 
days and forty nights. — From the Gospel. 

AM I a flranger here, on earth alone, 
When fhall my weary days be pall and 

gone ? 
When fhall I find fome refpite, fome relief 
From this unfleeping pain, this haunting grief? 

The joyful fun another morning brings, 
I only wake to feel care's piercing flings ; 
The foft moon comes with filent night and fleep, 
And bringeth nought to me but time to weep. 

My heart and confcience forely wounded lie, 
Struck by the arrows of Thy wrath, Moll High ! 
From morn till eventide where'er I flee, 
I find no hiding-place, great God, from Thee! 

O Lord, be not fo Uriel to mark my crimes ! 
Great God, doll Thou remember yet thofe times 
Of foolifh thoughtlefTnefs, when blind and young 
My heart to this world's vain delights Hill clung? 

Wilt Thou then alway bear my fins in mind ? 

What offering, what atonement can I find ! 

4* 



5 s Cgrct ©trmanica. 

Nought have I of mine own but fin and wrong, 
Mer :y and love, O Lord, to Thee belong ! 

On therefore leave me not the wretched prey 

Of thofe who feek to take my life away ! 

Yet though with ftreaming eyes to Thee I cry, 

No anfwering voice comes from Thy throne on hign, 

Vain are my tears and prayers, vain all my woe, 
While Thou doll fight againft me as a foe; 
The zeal of Thy jufl anger and Thy might 
Have plunged my foul in blackefl depths of night. 

lit alone ; with tears I bathe my cheeks, 
With bitter fighs and groans my fpirit feeks 
For Him, who veils behind the clouds His face, 
And hears not, as of old in happier days. 

Oh that I had a dove's fwift wings ! I'd fly 
Away to fome far mountain, lone and high; 
Yet could I not efcape His mighty hand 
Before whom all things bare and open Hand. 

Nay, rather let me fuffer all His will, 
Though His fierce anger beat upon me Hill, 
A willing heart and patient mind, O God I 
I bring to Thy fevere but righteous rod. 

Much have I finn'd, I perifh utterly 

If my mifdeeds be all avenged of Thee; 

Yet, Lord of Hofls, doth not Thy Word proclaim. 

The Merciful is Thy moll glorious name ! 

Raisner. 1678. 



€ma (f&exmamta. 59 



SECOND SUNDAY IN LENT. 

And the difciples faid, Send her away, for fhe crieth 
after us ; . . . But He faid, Great is thy faith, be it unto 
thee even as thou wilt. — From the Gospel. 

I WILL not let Thee go ; Thou Help in 
time of need ! 
Heap ill on ill 
I truft Thee ftill, 
E'en when it feems as Thou wouldft flay indeed! 
Do as Thou wilt with me, 
I yet will cling to Thee, 
Hide Thou Thy face, yet Help in time of need, 
I will not let Thee go ! 

I will not let Thee go; fhould I forfake my blifs? 
No, Lord, Thou'rt mine, 
And I am Thine, 
Thee will I hold when all things elfe I mifs 
Though dark and fad the night, 
Joy cometh with Thy light, 

Thou my Sun; fhould I forfake my blifs r 

I will not let Thee go ! 

1 will not let Thee go, my God, my Life, my Lord ! 

Not Death can tear 
Me from His care, 
Who for my fake His foul in death outpour'd. 



6o Cjjra ©ermanica. 

Thou diedft for love to me, 
I fay in love to Thee, 
E'en when my heart mall break, my God, my Life, 
my Lord, 
T will not let Thee go ! 

Deszler. 1692. 



£gra ©rnncmica. 61 



THIRD SUNDAY IN LENT. 

Awake, thou that fleepeft, and arife from the dead 
and Chrift fhall give thee light. — From the Epistle. 

AWAKE, O man, and from thee fhake 
This heavy fleep of fin ! 
Soon fhall the Higheft vengeance take, 
Soon fhall His wrath begin 
To fmite the wretched fmner home ; 
In awful terrors He fhall come, 
To mete to all on earth their due reward, 
Only the righteous fpares our angry Lord. 

Come then, ye finners, great and fmall, 

Weeping and mourning fore, 
Low down before His footftool fall, 
And vow to fin no more. 
In faith and godlinefs array 
Your fouls againft that final day, 
So fhall ye 'fcape His wrath, and blefled die, 
Heirs of the kingdom with your Lord on high. 

O lay to heart this wondrous thought, 

Through what fore agony 
And death was your redemption bought, 

And to your Saviour flee 



62 Agra ©armanfca. 

Ere yet too late; the world difown, 
And fix your love on Chrift alone, 
And do His will; for at the final doom, 
Who here difhonour'd Him fhall wrath confume. 



Turn Thou us, and we fhall be turn'd; 

Thou broughteft back of old 
Thy flraying people, when they yearn'd 
After their proper fold : 
Even fo, forgive what we have done, 
Accept us in Thy bleffed Son, 
Thy Holy Spirit ever be our guide, 
That we may fpread Thy praifes far and wide ! 

Crasselius. 1697. 



£qvcl ©ormamca. 6 3 



FOURTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 

Grant we befeech Thee, Almighty God, that we, 
who for our evil deeds do worthily deferve to be pun- 
ifhed, by the comfort of Thy grace may mercifully be 
relieved ; through our Lord and Saviour, Jefus Chrift. — 
From the Collect. 

HERE, O my God, I call me at Thy feet, 
Ready to fuffer what Thou thinkefl meet* 
Yet look on me, great God, with pitying 
eyes, 
Reward me not for mine iniquities ! 

Too oft, alas ! my heart hath loved to flray 
Downward along Sin's broad and eafy way; 
And worldly pride, and carnal lulls moll foul 
Were fhamelefs cherifh'd in my inmoft foul. 

Thy Majefly have I offended, Lord, 
And fet at nought Thy law, Thy holy Word ; 
I had not learnt Thy righteous wrath to dread, 
Nor faw the vengeance gathering o'er my head. 

wretched man, what evil have I wrought! 
Now in the fnares of Sin a captive caught, 

1 learn, O Sin, how fell and keen thy fmart! 
O wrath of God, how terrible thou art ! 



6 + £ma <£>zxmanka. 

Is there no way, can I no helper find, 
Who can thefe heavy chains of fin unbind? 
Can man nor creature fhow me any place, 
Where I may flee and hide me from God's face? 

Nay, I muft flee to God Himfelf, from whom 
Our life and help, our hope and fafety come ; 
What all the world muft unaccomplifh'd leave, 
Thou, for Thou art Almighty, canil achieve. 

Think on the covenant Thou haft never broken, 
Think on the fteadfaft oath Thyfelf haft fpoken i 
Know that I am a God, Thy promife faith, 
Who hath no pleafure in a tinner's death. 

Then let the arms of love be round me thrown, 
Have pity on me, hear my bitter moan, 
Call back Thy fheep, that wandering far aftray, 
Was loft in fin, nor knew its homeward way. 

Grant me to rule my inner life aright, 
And acl: and fpeak as ever in Thy fight, 
A friend to all true virtue, but a foe 
To all Thou hateft, fins and follies low. 

Thou Merciful! what thanks and praife ihall be 
For Thy great goodnefs offer'd unto Thee, 
As<is moft meet; while here my days I fpend, 
And yonder in the world that ihall not end! 

Anon. 



Cgra Qibtvmamta. 65 



FIFTH SUNDAY IN LENT. 

Out of the depths have I called unto Thee, O Lord. 
I ord, hear my voice. If Thou, Lord, wilt be extreme 
to mark what is done amifs, O Lord, who may abid 
it ? — Psalm cxxx. i, 3. 



O 



UT of the depths I cry to Thee, 

Lord God ! oh hear my prayer 

Incline a gracious ear to me, 

And bid me not defpair : 

If Thou remembereft each mifdeed, 

If each mould have its rightful meed, 

Lord, who mall ftand before Thee ? 

Lord, through Thy love alone we gain 

The pardon of our fin; 
The ftriclieft life is but in vain, 

Our works can nothing win, 
That none mould boaft himfelf of aught, 
But own in fear Thy grace hath wrought 
What in him feemeth righteous. 

Wherefore my hope is in the Lord, 

My works I count but duft, 
I build not there, but on His word, 

And in His goodnefs truft. 
Up to His care myfelf I yield, 
He is rny tower, my rock, my fhield, 
And for His help I tarry. 



66 £nra (Bmnamca. 

And though it tarry till the night, 

And round again to morn, 
My heart ihall ne'er miftruft Thy might, 

Nor count itfelf forlorn. 
Do thus, O ye of Ifrael's feed, 
Ye of the Spirit born indeed, 

Wait for your God's appearing. 

Though great our fins and fore our wounds, 

And deep and dark our fall, 
His helping mercy hath no bounds, 

His love furpafseth all. 
Our trufty loving Shepherd He, 
Who mall at laft fet Ifrael free 

From all their lin and forrow. 

Luther. 1524- 



Cjjra ©ermanka. 6 ? 



PALM SUNDAY. 

And the multitudes that went before, and that fol- 
lowed, cried, faying, Hofanna to the Son of David ; 
blefled is he that cometh in the name of the Lord ; 
Hofanna in the higheft. — Matt. xxi. 9. 

HOSANNA to the Son of David! Raife 
Triumphal arches to His praife, 

For Him prepare a throne 
Who comes at la ft to Zion— to His own ! 
Strew palms around, make plain and ftraight the 
way, 
For Him who His triumphal entry holds to-day ! 

Hofanna ! Welcome above all Thou art ! 
Make ready each to lay his heart 

Low down before His feet ! 
Come, let us haften forth our Lord to meet, 
And bid Him enter in at Zion's gates, 
Where thoufand-voiced welcome on His coming waits. 

Hofanna ! Prince of Peace and Lord of Might ! 
We hail Thee Conqueror in the fight. 

All Thou with toil haft won, 
Shall be our booty when the battle's done. 
Thy right hand ever hath the rule and fway, 
Thy kingdom ftandeth faft when all things elfe decay. 



68 Cgra (Smnanica. 

Hofanna ! bell-beloved and noble Guefl! 
Who made us by Thy high beheft 
Heirs of Thy realm with Thee. 
O let us therefore never weary be 
To ftand and ferve before Thy righteous throne, 
We know no king but Thee, rule Thou o'er us alone 

Hofanna! Come, the time draws on apace, 
We long Thy mercy to embrace; 

This fervant's form can ne'er 
Conceal the majefty Thy acts declare: 
Too well art Thou here in Thy Zion known, 
Who art the Son of God, and yet art David's Son. 

Hofanna ! Lord, be Thou our help and friend, 
Thy aid to us in mercy fend, 

That each may bring his foul 
An offering unto Thee, unftain'd and whole. 
Thou wilt have none for Thy difciples, Lord, 
Bat who obey in truth, not only hear Thy word. 

Hofanna! Let us in Thy footfteps tread, 

Nor that fad Mount of Olives dread 

Where we muft weep and watch, 

Until the far-off fong of joy we catch 

From Heaven our Bethphage, where we fhall fing 

Hofanna in the higheft to our God and King ! 

Hofanna ! Let us found it far and wide ! 
Enter Thou in and here abide, 
Thou Bleffed of the Lord ! 



fivva ©mtmnicct. e 9 

Why ftandefl Thou without, why roam'ft 
abroad ? 
Hofanna ! Make Thy home with us for ever ! 
Thou comeft, Lord ! and nought us from Thy love 
fliall fever. 

Hallelujah. 

SCHMOLCK. 1 704* 



7° £m*ct ©crmamca. 



MONDAY IN PASSION WEEK. 

And when He was come near, He beheld the city, 
and wept over it. — Luke xix. 41. 

THOU weepeft o'er Jerufalem, 
Lord Jefus, bitter tears ; 
But deepen: comfort lies in them 

For us, whofe fins have fill'd our fouls 
with fears: 
Since that they tell, 
When fmners turn to Thee Thou lov'ft it well, 
And furely wilt efface, of Thy unbounded grace, 
All the mifdeeds that on our confcience dwell. 

When God's juft wrath and anger burn 

Againft me for my fin, 
To thefe fad tears of Thine I turn, 

And watching them frefh hope and courage win. 
For God doth prize 
Thefe drops fo greatly, that before His eyes 
Who fprinkles o'er his foul with them is clean and 

whole, 
And from his forrows' depth new joy fhall rife. 

Earth is the home of tears and woe, 

Where we muft often weep, 
Fighting the world our mighty foe, 

Whofe enmity to Thee doth never fleep. 



£m*a ©armcmica. 



My heart is torn 
Afrefh each day by her fierce rage and fcorn, 
But in my faddeft hours, I think upon thofe fhowers 
That tell how Thou haft all our forrows borne. 

Thou counteft up my tears and fighs ; 

E'en were they numberlefs. 
Not one is hidden from Thine eyes, 
Thou ne'er forgetteft me in my diftrefs, 
But when they rain 
Before Thee, Thou doll quickly turn again, 
Haft pity on my woe, and makeft me to know 
What fweeteft joy lies hid in foreft pain. 

We fow in tears ; but let us keep 

Our faith in God, and truft Him ftill, 
Yonder our harveft we fhall reap, 

Where gladnefs every heart and mouth fhall fill. 
Such joy is there 
No mortal tongue its glory can declare, 
A joy that fhall endure, changelefs and deep and pure 
That fhall be ours, if here the crofs we bear. 

O Chrift, I thank Thee for Thy tears; 

Thofe tears have won for me 
That I fhall wear, through endlefs years, 
A crown of joy before my God and Thee 
All weeping o'er, 
Up to Thy chofen faints I once fhall fbar, 
And there Thy pity praife, in more befitting la)*, 
Thou Glory of Thy Church, for evermore. 

Heermann. 1630. 



72 fgra (Bmncmica. 



TUESDAY IN PASSION WEEK. 

By the which will we are fan&ified, through the offer- 
ing of the body of Jefus Chrift once for all. — Heb. x. io. 



L 



ORD ! Thy death and paffion give 
Strength and comfort at my need, 
Every hour while here I live 
On Thy love my foul fhall feed. 
Doth fome evil thought upftart? 
Lo, Thy crofs defends my heart, 
Shows the peril, and I fhrink 
Back from loitering on the brink. 

Doth my carnal nature yearn 

After wanton joys? again 
Quickly to Thy crofs I turn, 

And her voice is heard in vain. 
Cometh ilrong temptation's hour, 
When my foe puts forth his power ? 
Shelter'd by this holy fhield, 
Soon I drive him from the field. 

Would the world my fteps entice 
To yon wide and level road, 

Fill'd with mirth and pleafant vice ? 
Lord, I think upon the load 



Cgra (fcmantca. 73 

Thou didft once for me endure, 
And I fly all thoughts impure ; 
Thinking on Thy bitter pains, 
Huih'd in prayer my heart remains. 

Yes, Thy crofs hath power to heal 
All the wounds of fin and ftrife, 

Loft in Thee my heart doth feel 
Sudden warmth and nobler life. 

In my faddeft, darkeft grief, 

Let Thy fweetnels bring relief, 

Thou who cameft but to fave, 

Thou who feareft not the grave ! 

Lord, in Thee I place my truft, 
Thou art my defence and tower; 

Death Thou treadeft in the dull, 
O'er my foul he hath no power. 

That I may have part in Thee 

Help and fave and comfort me, 

Give me of Thy grace and might, 

Refurredlion, life and light. 

Fount of Good, within me dwell, 
For the peace Thy prefence fheds, 

Keeps us fafe in conflict fell, 

Charms the pain from dying beds. 

Hide me fafe within Thine arm, 

Where no foe can hurt or harm ; 

Whofo, Lord, in Thee doth reft, 

He hath conquer'd, he is bleft. 

Heermann. 1644. 



74 £m*a (5ermamca. 



WEDNESDAY IN PASSION WEEK. 

Now once in the end of the world hath He appeared, 
to put away fin by the facrifice of Himfelf. — From 
the Epistle. 



W 



HEN forrow and remorfe 
Prey at my heart, to Thee 
I look, who on the holy crofs 
Waft flain for me. 
Ah Lord, Thy precious blood was fpilt 
For me, O moft unworthy, 
To take away my guilt. 

Oh wonder paft belief! 

Behold the Mafter fpares 
His fervants, and fore pain and grief 

For them He bears. 
God ftoopeth from His throne on high, 

For me His guilty creature, 

He deigns as man to die. 

Though countlefs were the (ins, 

That weigh'd me to the duft, 
Chrift's death for me the favour wina 

Of God moft juft. 
His precious blood my debts hath paid, 

Of hell and all its torments 

I am no more afraid. 



Ctiva dfermanka. ?s 

My heart is filPd with ruth, 

Thinking on all Thou'fl borne, 
How mighty love and tender truth 
Were crown'd with thorn. 
In fongs of thanks I'll fpend my breath 

For Thy fad cry, Thy fufferings, 

Thy wrongs, Thy guiltlefs death. 

Thy Paffion, Lord, infpires 

My fpirit day by day, 
With ftrength from all low dark defires 

To flee away. 
This thought I fain would cherifh moil, 

What pain my foul's redemption 

To Thee, O Saviour, coft. 

Whate'er the burden be, 

The crofs upon me laid, 
Or want or fhame, I look to Thee, 

Be Thou my aid. 
Give patience, give me ftrength to take 

Thee for my bright example, 

And all the world forfake. 

Let me to others do, 

As Thou haft done to me, 
Love them with love unfeign'd and true, 

Their fervant be 
Of willing heart, nor feek my own, 

But as Thou, Lord, haft helped us, 

From pureft love alone. 



? 6 • £gra ©nrmamca. 

And let Thy forrows cheer 
My foul when I depart ; 
Give itrength to caft away all fear, 

And tell my heart 
That fince my truft is in Thy grace, 
Thou wilt accept me yonder, 
Where I fhall fee Thy face. 

Gesenius. 1646. 



fjjra ©ermamca. n 



THURSDAY IN PASSION WEEK. 

Pilate therefore, willing to releafe Jefus, fpake again 
to them. But they cried, laying, Crucify him, crucify 
him. And he faid unto them the third time, Why, 
what evil hath he done ? — From the Gospel. 



A' 



LAS, dear Lord, what evil haft Thou done, 
That fuch iharp fentence from Thy Judge 

hath won ? 
What are His crimes, and what the guilt, 

oh tell, 
Wherein He fell? 



They fcourge Him, crown Him with a crown of 

thorn, 
They fmite His face, with bitter mock and fcorn, 
They give Him gall to drink, they pierce His fide, 
The Crucified! 

Whence come thefe forrows, whence this cruel woe ? 
It was my fins that ftruck the fatal blow; 
Mine were the wrath and anguifh, deareft Lord, 
On Thee outpour'd. 

What ftrangeft punimment ! The Shepherd good 
For erring fheep here pours His own heart's blood, 
The fervants' debts are on the Matter laid, 
Who all hath paid. 



7^ £t)ra ©armanica. 

From head to foot was there no fpot in me 
Unfcarr'd by fin, from taint of evil free ; 
My fins had weigh'd me down that I mould dwell, 
For aye in Hell. 

Oh wondrous love, love that no meafure knows, 
That brought Thee, Chrift, to drink this cup of woes ! 
Full of the world's vain joys and hopes was I, 
While Thou muft die! 

mighty King! mighty beyond all time! 

Fain would I found Thy praife through every clime ! 
A gift were meet for Thee, my anxious thought 
Long time hath fought. 

But human wifdom fearches, Lord, in vain 
To find aught like Thy pity, or Thy pain. 
How fhall my works, though toiling day and night. 
Thy love requite? 

Yet have I somewhat that my Lord can pleafe; 

1 can renounce fweet fins and felfifh eafe, 

And quench the unhallow'd fires that back would 
lure 
To thoughts impure. 

But fince my ftrength, alas, will ne'er prevail 
My ftrong defires upon the crofs to nail, 
Oh let Thy Spirit rule my heart, who leads 
To all good deeds. 

Then fhall Thy mercy fill my every thought; 
I love Thee fo, the world to me is nought. 
My fole endeavour, Lord, is to fulfil 
Thy holy will. 



£#xa ©crmanka. 79 

My all I riik to magnify Thy name, 
No crofs mall daunt me, no reproach or fhame; 
Man's fierceft threats I will not lay to heart, 
Nor Death's worft fmart. 

In truth my facrifice is nothing worth, 
Vet Thou in mercy wilt not call it forth ; 
Thou'lt put me not to fliame, but for love's fake 
My offering take. 

Lord Jefus, once on high amongft Thine own, 
Shall I Hand crown'd with light before Thy throne ; 
Where fweeteft hymns are ever ringing round 
My voice mall found. 

Heermann. 1630. 



80 £gra ©armamca. 

GOOD FRIDAY. 

Morning. 

He was wounded for our tranfgreflions, He was 

bruifed for our iniquities : the chaftifement of our peace 

was upon Him, and with His ftripes we are healed. — 
From the Lesson. 

AH wounded Head ! Mull Thou 
Endure fuch fhame and fcorn ! 
The blood is trickling from Thy brov* 
Pierced by the crown of thorn. 
Thou who waft crown'd on high 
With light and majefty, 
In deep difhonour here muft die, 
Yet here I welcome Thee! 

Thou noble countenance! 

All earthly lights are pale 
Before the brightnefs of that glance, 

At which a world mail quail. 

How is it quench'd and gone ! 

Thofe gracious eyes how dim ! 
Whence grew that cheek fo pale and wanf 

Who dared to feoff at Him ? 

All lovely hues of life, 
That glow'd on lip and cheek, 
Have vanifhed in that awful ftrife ; 
The Mighty One is weak. 



Cgrcr (fermcmtca. 81 



Pale Death has won the day, 
He triumphs in this hour 
When Strength and Beauty fade away, 
And yield them to his power. 

Ah Lord, Thy woes belong, 
Thy cruel pains, to me, 

The burden of my fin and wrong 
Hath all been laid on Thee. 
Look, on me where I kneel, 
Wrath were my rightful lot, 

One glance of love oh let me feel ! 
Redeemer, fpurn me not ! 

My Guardian, own me Thine; 

Thy lamb, O Shepherd, lead ! 
What richeft blemngs, Source Divine, 

Daily from Thee proceed ! 

How oft Thy mouth has fed 

My foul with angels' food, 
How oft Thy Spirit o'er me fhed 

His ftores of heavenly good ! 

Ah would that I could {hare 
Thy crofs, Thy bitter woes ! 

All true delight lies hidden there, 
Thence all true comfort flows. 
Ah well were it for me 
Could I here end my ftrife, 

And die upon the crofs with Thee 
Who art my Life of life! 



82 £gva (&txmamta. 

O Jefus, deareft Friend, 

My foul is all o'erfraught 
With thanks, when pondering to what end 

Thou haft the battle fought. 

Oh let me faithful keep, 

As Thou art true to me, 
So fhall my laft cold deathly fleep 

Be but a reft in Thee. 

Yes, when I hence muft go, 

Go not Thou, Chrift, from me; ■ 

When Death has ftruck the mortal blow, 
Bear Thou mine agony. 
When heart and fpirit fink, 
O'erwhelm'd with dark difmay, 

Come Thou who ne'er from pain didft ihrink, 
And chafe my fears away. 

Come to me ere I die, 

My comfort and my fhield; 
And gazing on Thy crofs can I 

Calmly my fpirit yield. 

When life is well-nigh paft, 

My darkening eyes fhall dwell 
On Thee, my heart fhall hold Thee faft; 

Who dieth thus, dies well. 

Paul Gerhardt. 1659. 



£m*a ©ormamca. 83 

GOOD FRIDAY. 

Evening. 

But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, 
while we were yet finners, Chrift died for us. — Rom. 
v. 8. 

THOU Holieft Love, whom moil I love, 
Who art my long'd-for only blifs, 
Whom tenderer!: pity erft did move 
To fathom woe and death's abyfs; 
Thou who didft fuffer for my good, 

And die my guilty debts to pay, 
Thou Lamb of God, whofe precious blood 
Can take a world's mifdeeds away; 

Thou who didft bear the agony 

That made e'en Thy ftrong fpirit quail, 
Yet ever yearnefl ftill for me 

With longing love that ne'er fhall fail; 
'Twas Thou waft willing, Thou alone, 

To bear the righteous wrath of God; 
Thy death hath ftill'd it, elfe had none 

Found Ihelter from its awful load. 

O Love, who with unflinching heart 
Didft bear all worft difgrace and fhame; 

O Love, who mid the keeneft fmart 
Of dying pangs weit ftill the fame; 



8 4 Cgrct (£crmantca. 

Who didft Thy changelefs virtue prove 
E'en with Thy lateft parting breath, 

And fpakeft words of gentleft love 
When foul and body fank in death; 

O Love, through forrows manifold 

Hift Thou betroth'd me as a bride, 
By ceafelefs gifts, by love untold, 

Haft bound me ever to Thy fide. 
Oh let the weary ache, the fmart, 

Of life's long tale of pain and lofs, 
Be gently ftill'd within my heart 

At thought of Thee, and of Thy crofs ! 

Love, who gav'ft Thy life for me, 
And won an everlailing good 

Through Thy fore anguifh on the tree, 
I ever think upon Thy blood ; 

1 ever thank Thy facred wounds, 

Thou wounded Love, Thou Holieft, 
But moll when life is near its bounds, 
And in Thy bofom fafe I reft. 

Love, who unto death haft grieved 
For this cold heart, unworthy Thine, 

Whom the cold grave and death received, 
I thank Thee for that grief divine. 

1 give Thee thanks that Thou didft die 

To win eternal life for me, 
To bring falvation from on high; 

Oh draw me up through love to Thee ! 

Angelus. 1657. 



Cera ©armamca. 85 



EASTER EVEN. 

And Jofeph wrapped the body in a clean linen cloth, 
and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn 
out in the rock. — From the Gospel. 

REST of the weary! Thou 
Thyfelf art refting now, 
Where lowly in Thy fepulchre Thou 
Heft: 
From out her deathly fleep 
My foul doth ftart, to weep 
So fad a wonder, that Thou Saviour diefl! 

Thy bitter anguifh o'er, 

To this dark tomb they bore 
Thee, Life of life — Thee, Lord of all creation ! 

The hollow rocky cave 

Muft ferve Thee for a grave, 
Who waft Thyfelf the Rock of our Salvation! 

O Prince of Life ! I know 

That when I too lie low, 
Thou wilt at laft my foul from death awaken; 

Wherefore I will not fhrink 

From the grave's awful brink; 
The heart that trufts in Thee mail ne'er be fhaken. 



86 £gra ©ermamca. 

To me the darkfome tomb 

Is but a narrow room, 
Where I may reft in peace from forrow free. 

Thy death fhall give me power 

To cry in that dark hour, 
O Death, O Grave, where is your victory? 

The grave can nought deftroy, 

Only the flefh can die, 
And e'en the body triumphs o'er decay: 

Cloth'd by Thy wondrous might 

In robes of dazzling light, 
This flefh fhall burft the grave at that laft Day. 

My Jefus, day by day, 

Help me to watch and pray, 
Befide the tomb where in my heart Thou'rt laid. 

Thy bitter death fhall be 

My conftant memory, 
My guide at laft into Death's awful fhade. 

S. Franck. 171 i. 



£ma ©n*manka. 87 



EASTER DAY. 
Morning. 

Chrift being raifed from the dead dieth no more : 
death hath no more dominion over him. — From the 
Anthem. 



r 



[N the bonds of Death He lay, 
Who for our offence was flain, 
But the Lord is rifen to-day, 
Chrift hath brought us life again 
Wherefore let us all rejoice, 
Singing loud with cheerful voice 

Hallelujah! 

Of the fons of men was none 

Who could break the bonds of Death, 

Sin this mifchief dire had done, 

Innocent was none on earth, 

Wherefore Death grew ftrong and bold, 

Would all men in his prifon hold, 

Hallelujah! 

Jefus Chrift, God's only Son, 

Came at laft our foe to finite, 
All our fins away hath done, 

Done away Death's power and right, 
Only the form of Death is left, 
Of his fting he is bereft; 

Hallelujah. 



Ctira ©rnnanka. 



That was a wondrous war I trow, 

When Life and Death together fought, 
But Life hath triumph'd o'er his foe, 
Death is mock'd and fet at nought ; 
Tis even as the Scripture faith, 
Chrift through death has conquer'd Death. 
Hallelujah. 

The rightful Pafchal Lamb is He, 

On whom alone we all muft live, 
Who to death upon the tree, 

Himfelf in wondrous love did give. 
Faith ftrikes his blood upon the door, 
Death fees, and dares not harm us more. 
Hallelujah. 

Let us keep high feftival, 

On this moll bleffed day of days, 
When God His mercy fhow'd to all! 
Our Sun is rifen with brighter!: rays, 
And our dark hearts rejoice to fee 
Sin and night before him flee. 

Hallelujah. 

To the fupper of the Lord, 

Gladly will we come to-day, 
The word of peace is now reftored, 
The old leaven is put away. 
Chrift will be our food alone, 
Faith no life but His doth own. 

Hallelujah. 

Luther. 1524- 



Cgra ©rnnanka. 89 



EASTER DAY. 

Evening. 

If ye then be rifen with Chrift, feek thofe things 
which are above, where Chrift fitteth on the right hand 
of God. — From the Epistle. 

O GLORIOUS Head, Thou liveft now! 
Let us Thy members mare Thy life; 
Canft Thou behold their need, nor bow 
To raife Thy children from the ftrife 
With felf and fin, with death and dark diilrefs, 
That they may live to Thee in holinefs? 

Earth knows Thee not, but evermore 

Thou liveft in Paradife, in peace; 
Thither my foul would alfo foar, 

Let me from all the creatures ceafe: 
Dead to the world, but to Thy Spirit known, 
I live to Thee, O Prince of life, alone. 

Break through my bonds whate'er it coft, 

What is not Thine within me flay, 
Give me the lot I covet moft, 

To rife as Thou haft rifen to-day. 
Nought can I do, a flave to death I pine, 
Work Thou in me, O Power and Life Divine ! 



9° &$xa (&zxmanha. 

Work Thou in me, and heavenward guide 
My thoughts and wifhes, that my heart 

Waver no more nor turn afide, 
But fix for ever where Thou art. 

Thou art not far from us; who love Thee well, 

While yet on earth in heaven with Thee may dwell. 
Tersteegen. i 73 i. 



£gra ©armanua. 9 1 



MONDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 

And they told what things were done in the way, 
and how He was known to them in breaking of bread. 
And as they thus fpake, Jefus himfelf ftood in the 
midft of them, and faith unto them, Peace be unto you. 
— From the Gospel. 



w 



ELCOME Thou vi&or in the ftrife, 
Welcome from out the cave ! 
To-day we triumph in Thy life 
Around Thine empty grave. 



Our enemy is put to fhame, 

His fhort-lived triumph o'er; 
Our God is with us, we exclaim, 

We fear our foe no more. 

The dwellings of the juft refound 

With fongs of vittory ; 
For in their midft Thou, Lord, art found, 

And bringeft peace with Thee. 

O fhare with us the fpoils, we pray, 

Thou diedft to achieve ; 
We meet within Thy houfe to-day 

Our portion to receive : 



9 2 £ma ©ermcmica. 



And let Thy conquering banner wave 

O'er hearts Thou makeft free, 
And point the path that from the grave 

Leads heavenwards up to Thee. 

We bury all our fin and crime 

Deep in our Saviour's tomb, 
And feek the treafure there, that time 

Nor change can e'er confume. 

We die with Thee ; oh let us live 

Henceforth to Thee aright; 
The bleflings Thou hall died to give, 

Be daily in our fight. 

Fearlefs we lay us in the tomb, 

And fleep the night away, 
If Thou art there to break the gloom, 

And call us back to day. 

Death hurts us not; his power is gone, 

And pointlefs all his darts; 
God's favour now on us hath ihone, 

Joy filleth all our hearts. 

SCHMOLCK. I 7 I 2 



Cgra ©ennctmca. 93 



TUESDAY IN EASTER WEEK. 

I know that my Redeemer liveth . . and though aftei 
my fkin worms deftroy this body, yet in my flefh (hall 
I fee God. — Job xix. 25, 26. 

For this corruptible muft put on incorruption, and 
this mortal muft put on immortality. — From the Les- 
son. 

JESUS my Redeemer lives, 
Chrift my truft is dead no more; 
In the ftrength this knowledge gives 
Shall not all my fears be o'er; 
Calm, though death's long night be fraught 
Still with many an anxious thought ? 

Jefus my Redeemer lives, 

And His life I once mail fee ; 
Bright the hope this prcmife gives, 

Where He is I too fhall be. 
Shall I fear then? Can the Head 
Rife and leave the members dead? 

Clofe to Him my foul is bound 

In the bonds of Hope enclafp'd; 
Faith's ftrong hand this hold hath found, 

And the Rock hath firmly grafp'd. 



94 #2™ ©-ermatma. 

Death mall ne'er my foul remove 
From her refuge in Thy love. 

I mall fee Him with thefe eyes, 
Him whom I mail furely know; 

Not another fhall I rife, 

With His love this heart mail glow; 

Only there fhall difappear 

Weaknefs in and round me here. 

Ye who fuffer, figh, and moan, 

Frefh and glorious there fhall reign; 

Earthly here the feed is fown, 
Heavenly it fhall rife again; 

Natural here the death we die, 

Spiritual our life on high. 

Body, be thou of good cheer, 
In thy Saviour's care rejoice, 

Give not place to gloom and fear, 
Dead, thou yet fhalt know His voice, 

When the final trump is heard, 

And the deaf cold grave is flirr'd. 

Laugh to fcorn then death and hell, 
Laugh to fcorn the gloomy grave; 

Caught into the air to dwell 

With the Lord who comes to fave, 

We fhall trample on our foes. 

Mortal weaknefs, fear and woes. 



&$xa ©mncmtcct. 95 

Only fee ye that your heart, 

Rife betimes from earthly lull, 
Would ye there with Him have part, 

Here obey your Lord and truft. 
Fix your hearts beyond the ikies, 
Whither ye yourfelves would rife. 
Louisa Henrietta, 

Ele&refs of Brandenburg. 1653, 



96 Cgra ©armanica. 



FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 

God hath given to us eternal life, and this life is in 
His Son. — From the Epistle. 

WHAT had I been if Thou wert not? 
What were I now if Thou wert gone ? 
Anguifh and fear were then my lot, 
In this wide world I flood alone ; 
Whate'er I loved were fafe no more, 

The future were a dark abyfs, 
To whom could I my forrows pour, 
If Thee my laden heart fhould mifs ? 

But when Thou mak'fl Thy prefence felt, 

And when the foul hath grafp'd Thee right 
How fail the dreary lhadows melt 

Beneath Thy warm and living light: 
In Thee I find a nobler birth, 

A glory o'er the world I fee, 
And Paradife returns to earth, 

And blooms again for us in Thee. 

Thou flrong and loving Son of Man, 

Redeemer from the bonds of fin, 
'Tis Thou the living fpark doft fan 

That fets my heart on fire within. 



Cgra Cfemcmka. 9? 

Thou openeft heaven once more to men, 
The foul's true home, Thy kingdom, Lord, 

And I can trull and hope again, 
And feel myfelf akin to God. 

Brethren, go forth befide all ways, 

The wanderer greet with outflretch'd hand, 
And call him back who darkly ftrays, 

And bid him join our gladfome band. 
That Heaven hath ftoop'd to earth below, 

Proclaim the glad news everywhere, 
That all may learn our faith and know 

They too may find »n entrance there. 

Novalis. About 1795. 



Cgrct ©.ermanka. 



SECOND SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 

Jefus faid, I am the Good Shepherd: the Good Shep- 
herd giveth His life for His fheep. — From the Gos- 
pel. 

LOVING Shepherd, kind and true, 
Wilt Thou not in pity come 
To Thy lamb? As fhepherds do, 
Bear 'me in Thy bofom home; 
Take me hence from earth's annoy- 
To Thy home of endlefs joy. 

See how I have gone aflray 

In this earthly wildernefs; 
Come and take me hence away 

To Thy flock who dweU in btifs, 
And Thy glory, Lord, behold, 
Safe within Thy heavenly fold. 

For I fain would gaze on Thee, 

With the lambs to whom 'tis given 
That they feed from danger free, 

In the happy fields of heaven; 
Praifing Thee, all terrors o'er, 
Never can they wander more. 

Here I live in fore diftrefs, 
Careful, timid, every hour; 



£gm (Btvmanka. 99 



For my foes around me prefs, 

Hem me in with craft and power: 
Not one moment fafe can be, 
Lord, Thy lamb away from Thee. 

O Lord Jefus, let me not 

'Mid the ravening wolves e'er fall, 
Help me as a fhepherd ought, 

That I may efcape them all; 
Bear me homeward in Thy breaft, 
To Thy fold of endlefs reft. 

Angelus. 1657. 



Cgra (femamca. 



THIRD SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 

And ye now therefore have* farrow; but I will fee 
you again, and your heart (hall rejoice, and your joy no 
man taketh from you. — From the Gospel. 

COMETH funfhine after rain, 
After mourning joy again, 
After heavy bitter grief 
Dawneth furely fweet relief; 
And my foul, who from her height 
Sank to realms of woe and night, 
Wingeth now to heaven her flight. 

He, whom this world dares not face, 

Hath refrefh'd me with His grace, 

And His mighty hand unbound 

Chains of hell about me wound ; 

Quicker, ftronger, leaps my blood, 
Since His mercy, like a flood, 
Pour'd o'er all my heart for good. 

Bitter anguifh have I borne, 

Keen regret my heart hath torn, 

Sorrow dimm'd my weeping eyes, 

Satan blinded me with lies ; 
Yet at laft am I fet free, 
Help, protection, love, to me 
Once more true companions be. 



£nra ©armanica. 



Ne'er was left a helplefs prey, 

Ne'er with fhame was turn'd away, 

He who gave himfelf to God, 

And on Him had call his load. 

Who in God his hope hath placed 
Shall not life in pain outwafte, 
Fullefl joy he yet mall tafte. 

Though to-day may not fulfil 

All thy hopes, have patience ftiflj 

For perchance to-morrow's fun 

Sees thy happier days begun. 

As God willeth march the hours, 
Bringing joy at kit in mowers, 
And whate'er we afk'd is ours. 

When my heart was vex'd with care, 
Fill'd with fears well nigh defpair ; 
When with watching many a night, 
On me fell pale ficknefs' blight; 

When my courage fail'd me fall, 
Cameft Thou, my God, at laft, 
And my woes were quickly paft. 

Now as long as here I roam, 
On this earth have houfe and home, 
Shall this wondrous gleam from Thee 
Shine through all my memory. 
To my God I yet will cling, 
All my life the praifes fing 
That from thankful hearts outfpring. 



£gra ©ermcmica. 



Every forrow, every fmart, 

That the Eternal Father's heart 

Hath appointed me of yore, 

Or hath yet for me in ftore, 

As my life flows on I'll take 
Calmly, gladly for His fake, 
No more faithlefs murmurs make. 

I will meet diftrefs and pain, 

I will greet e'en death's dark reign, 

I will lay me in the grave, 

With a heart ftill glad and brave. 

Whom the Strongefl doth defend, 
Whom the Higheft counts His friend, 
Cannot perifh in the end. 

Paul Gerhardt. 1659. 



&ma (Bcvmanxca. 103 



FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 

It is expedient for you that I go away, for if I go 
not away, the Comforter will not come unto you. — 
From the Gospel. 



o 



HOLY Ghoft! Thou fire Divine! 
From higheft heaven on us down mine; 
Comforter, be Thy comfort mine! 



Come, Father of the poor, to earth ; 
Come with Thy gifts of precious worth ; 
Come, Light of all of mortal birth! 

Thou rich in comfort ! Ever bleft 

The heart where Thou art conftant gueft, 

Who giv'ft the heavy-laden reft. 

Come, Thou in whom our toil is fweet, 
Our fhadow in the noon-day heat, 
Before whom mourning flieth fleet. 

Bright Sun of Grace ! Thy funfhine dart 
On all who cry to Thee apart, 
And fill with gladnefs every heart. 

Whate'er without Thy aid is wrought, 
Or fkilful deed, or wifeft thought, 
God counts it vain and merely nought. 



«°4 &Qxa Cfermcmka. 

O cleanfe us that we fin no more, 
O'er parched fouls Thy waters pour; 
Heal the fad heart that acheth fore. 



Thy will be ours in all our ways; 
Oh melt the frozen with Thy rays; 
Call home the loft in error's maze. 

And grant us, Lord, who cry to Thee, 
And hold the faith in unity, 
Thy precious gifts of charity; 

That we may live in holinefs, 
And find in death our happinefs, 
And dwell with Thee in lafting blifs ! 

King Robert of France, 
about a. d. iooo. 



£ ma ®jermamca. 



FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER EASTER. 

Thefe things have I fpoken unto you, that in me ye 
might have peace. In the world ye mall have tribula- 
tion ; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the 
world. — From the Gospel. 

CHRIST, Thou the champion of the band 
who own 

Thy crofs, oh make Thy iuccour quickly 
known; 
The fchemes ofthofe who long our blood have fought 
Bring Thou to nought. 

Do Thou Thyfelf for us Thy children fight, 
Withftand the devil, quell his rage and might, 
Whate'er aflails Thy members left below 
Do Thou o'erthrow. 

And give us peace; peace in the church and fchool. 
Peace to the powers who o'er our country rule, 
Peace to the confcience, peace within the heart, 
Do Thou impart. 

So mail Thy goodnefs here be ftill adored, 
Thou guardian of Thy little flock, dear Lord, 
And heaven and earth through all eternity 
Shall worfhip Thee. 

LOWENSTERN. 

During the Thirty Years' War. 



*° 6 £$xa ©crmcmica. 



ASCENSION DAY. 

This fame Jefus which is taken up from you into 
heaven, mall fo come, in like manner as ye have feen 
him go into heaven. — From the Epistle. 

LORD, on earth I dwell in pain; 
Here in anguifli I mull lie ; 
Wherefore leav'ft Thou me again, 
Why ascendeft Thou on high? 
Take me, take me hence with Thee, 
Or abide, Lord, ftill in me; 
Let Thy love and gifts be left, 
That I be not all bereft. 

Leave Thy heart with me behind, 
Take mine hence with Thee away; 

Let my iighs an entrance find 
To Thy heaven whene'er I pray. 

When I cannot pray, oh plead 

With Thy Father in my Head; 

Thou who fitt'ft at God's right hand, 

Help us here Thy faithful band. 

Help me earthly toys to fpurn, 

Raife my thoughts from things below; 

Mortal am I here, yet yearn 

Heavenly like my Lord to grow, 



&$xa ©ertncmka. 107 

That my time through faith may be 
Order'd for eternity; 
Till we rife, all perils o'er, 
Whither Thou haft gone before. 

In due feason come again, 

As was promifed us of old; 
Raife the members that have lain 

Gnaw'd of death beneath the mould. 
Judge the evil world that deems 
Thy fure words but empty dreams ; 
Then for all our forrows paft, 
Let us know Thy joy at laft. 

Neumann, i 700. 



io8 fgva (fermcmka. 



SUNDAY AFT^R ASCENSION DAY. 

Thefe all confeffed that they were Grangers and pil- 
grims on the earth. . . For they deiired a better coun- 
try, that is, an heavenly ; wherefore God is not afhamed 
to be called their God : for He hath prepared for them 
a city. — HiiB. xi. 13, 16. 



H 



EAVENWARD doth our journey tend, 
We are ftrangers here on earth, 
Through the wildernefs we wend 
Towards the Canaan of our birth. 
Here we roam a pilgrim band, 
Yonder is our native land. 

Heavenward ftretch, my foul, thy wings, 
Heavenly nature canft thou claim, 

There is nought of earthly things 
Worthy to be all thine aim; 

Every foul whom God infpires, 

Back to Him its Source afpires. 

Heavenward! doth His Spirit cry, 
When I hear Him in His Word, 

Showing thus the reft on high, 
Where I fhall be with my Lord: 

When His Word fills all my thought, 

Oft to heaven my foul is caught. 



£gra ©armamca. i°9 

Heavenward ever would I hafte, 
When Thy Table, Lord, is fpread; 

Heavenly ftrength on earth I tafte, 
Feeding on the Living Bread. 

Such is e'en on earth our fare 

Who Thy marriage feaft mall fhare. 

Heavenwards ! Faith difcerns the prize 

That is waiting us afar, 
And my heart would fwiftly rife, 

High o'er fun and moon and ftar, 
To that Light behind the veil 
Where all earthly fplendours pale. 

Heavenward Death mail lead at laft, 

To the home where I would be, 
All my forrows overpaft, 

I fhall triumph there with Thee, 
Jefus, who haft gone before, 
That we too might Heavenwards foar. 

Heavenwards! Heavenwards! Only this 

Is my watchword on the earth; 
For the love of heavenly blifs 

Counting all things little worth. 
Heavenward all my being tends, 
Till in Heaven my journey ends. 

Schmolck. 1 73 1. 



C^ra ©rnnantca. 



WHIT-SUNDAY. 

I will pray the Father, and He fhall give you another 
Comforter, that He may abide with you for ever, even 
the Spirit of Truth — From the Gospel. 

GOME, deck our feaft to-day 
With flowers and wreaths of May, 
And bring an offering pure and fweet; 
The Spirit of all grace 
Makes earth His dwelling-place, 
Prepare your hearts your Lord to meet ; 
Receive Him, and He fhall outpour 
Such light, all hearts with joy run o'er, 
And found of tears is heard no more. 

Thou harbinger of peace, 

Who maketh forrows ceafe, 
Wifdom in word and deed is Thine; 

Strong hand of God, Thy feal 

The loved of Jefus feel; 
Pure Light, o'er all our pathway mine! 

Give vigorous life and healthy powers, 

Oh let Thy fevenfold gifts be ours, 

Refrefh us with Thy gracious fhowers! 

Oh touch our tongues with flame, 
When fpeaking Jefu's name ! 



JEm*a ©n*manica. 



And lead us up the heavenward road. 
Give us the power to pray, 
Teach us what words to fay, 

Whene'er we come before our God. 
O Higheft Good, our fpirits cheer, 
When raging foes are ftrong and near, 
Give us brave hearts undimm'd by fear. 

O golden rain from heaven! 

Thy precious dews be given 
Unto the churches' barren field! 

And let Thy waters flow, 

Where'er the fowers fow 
The feed of truth, thai it may yield 

A hundred-fold its living fruit, 

O'er all the land may take deep root, 

And mighty branches heavenward moot. 

Thou fiery glow of Love ! 

Let us Thy ardours prove, 
Confume our hearts with quenchlefs fire ! 

Come, O Thou tracklefs Wind! 

Breathe gently o'er our mind! 
Let not the flefh to rule afpire ; 

Help us our free-born right to take, 

The heavy yoke of fin to break, 

And all her tempting paths for fake. 

Be it Thine to flir our will; 
Our good intents fulfil ; 
Be with us when we go and come; 
Deep in our fpirits dwell, 
And make their inmoft cell 



112 £gra ®n*mantca. 

Thy temple pure, Thy holy home ! 
Teach us to know our Lord, that we 
May call His Father ours through Thee, 
Thou pledge of glories yet to be ! 

O make our crofses fweet, 

And let Thy funfhine greet 
Our {training eyes in clouded hours ! 

Wing Thou our upward flight 

Toward yonder mountain bright, 
Girded about with Zion's golden towers ! 

Forfake us not when our laft foe 

Puts forth his ftrength to lay us low, 

Then, then our victory bellow! 

Let us, while here we dwell, 

This one thought ponder well, 
That in God's likenefs we are made. 

As o'er a fruitful land 

Rich harvefts waving Hand, 
We, ferving Him, bear fruits that never fade, 

Till Thou in whom all comfort lies, 

Lift us to fields above the ikies, 

And bid us bloom in Paradife ! 

Schmolck. 171 5. 



Cgrct ©ermanka. 113 



MONDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 

Would God that all the Lord's people were prophets, 
and that the Lord would put His Spirit upon them !— 
From the Lesson. 

COME to Thy temple here on earth, 
Be Thou my fpirit's gueft, 
Who giveit us of mortal birth 
A fecond birth more bleft; 
Spirit beloved, Thou mighty Lord, 
Who with the Father and the Son 
Reigneit upon an equal throne, 
Art equally adored ! 

Oh enter, let me feel and know 

Thy mighty power within, 
That can alone our help bellow, 

And refcue us from fin. 
Oh cleanfe my foul and make it white, 

That I with heart unftain'd and true, 

May daily render fervice due, 
And honour Thee aright. 

I was a wild unfruitful vine 

Which Thou muft prune and train ; 

Death pierced through all this life of mine, 
But Thou my foe hath flam. 



"4 £gra (Bzxmanka. 

Thy holy baptifm is his grave, 
He perifhes beneath the flood 
Of His moil precious death and blood, 

Who died our life to fave. 

Thou art the Spirit who doft teach 

To pray aright, for all 
Our prayers are heard if Thou befeech, 

Thy fongs have fweeteft fall. 
They foar on tirelefs wings to heaven, 

They fail not from before God's throne, 

Till all His goodnefs we have known 
By whom all help is given. 

Thou art the Spirit of all joy, 

Sadnefs Thou loveil not; 
Thy comfort beaming from on high, 

Lights up the darkeil lot, 
Ah yes, how many a time of old 

Thy voice hath wrapt my foul away, 

To yon bright halls of endlefs day, 
And oped the gates of gold! 

Thou art the Spirit of all love, 

Thou loveil kindly life, 
Wouldfl not that wrath our hearts fhould move, 

Nor envy, anger, flrife. 
Thou hatefl hatred's withering reign, 

In hearts that difcord maketh dark 

Doft Thou rekindle love's bright ipark, 
And make them one again. 



£qx'<x (femcmica. i*s 

On Thee is all this world upftaid, 

And in Thy hands doth reft; 
Thou canft the wayward heart perfuade 

To turn as feems Thee beft : 
Oh therefore give Thy love and peace, 

That they may join in flrongeft bands 

Long parted foes, and through our lands 
Thefe fad divifions ceafe. 

Arife, and Hem this tide of woe, 

Of heartache, and of pain ; 
Call back Thy flock, and make them know 

Bright days of joy again; 
To peace and wealth the lands reftore, 

Walled with fire or plague or Iword; 

Come to Thy ruin'd churches, Lord, 
And bid them bloom once more! 

The rulers of our land defend, 

Our Sovereign's throne uphold; 
That he and we may profper, fend 

True wifdom to the old ; 
With piety the young men blefs, 

And through the nation fhed abroad 

True virtue and the fear of God, 
A nation's happinefs. 

Fill every heart with holy zeal 

To keep the faith unftain'd; 
Let houfe and land Thy bleffing feel, 

Whence all true wealth is gain'd. 



lI 6 £gra ©ermamca. 



Him who refills Thy inward powers, 

The Evil Spirit make Thou flee; 

Whate'er delights Thy heart, would he 
Fain root from out of ours. 

Give flrong and cheerful hearts to fland 

Undaunted in the wars, 
That Satan's works and mighty band 

Are waging with Thy caufe. 
Help us to fight as warriors brave, 

That we may conquer in the field, 

And not one Chriftian man may yield 
His foul to fin a Have. 

Order according to Thy mind 

Our life from day to day, 
And when this life mull be refign'd, 

And Death has feized his prey, 
When all our days have fleeted by, 

Help us to die with fearlefs fpirit, 

And let us after death inherit 
Eternal life on high. 

Paul Gerhardt. 
During the Thirty Years' War, 



Cgra -©armcmtca. i*7 



TUESDAY IN WHITSUN-WEEK. 

Hereby know ye the Spirit of God. Every fpirit 
that confeffeth that Jefus Chrift is come in the rleih is of 
God. — From the Lesson. 

GOME, Holy Spirit, God and Lord, 
Be all Thy graces now outpour'd 
On the believer's mind and foul, 
And touch their hearts with living coal. 
Thy* Light this day fhone forth fo clear, 
All tongues and nations g .ther'd near, 
To learn that faith, for which we bring 
Glad praife to Thee, and loudly ring, 

Hallelujah, Hallelujah! 

Thou Strong Defence, Thou Holy Light, 
Teach us to know our God aright, 
And call Him Father from the heart : 
The Word of life and truth impart, 
That we may love not doctrines ftrange, 
Nor e'er to other teachers range, 
But Jefus for our Matter own, 
And put our trull in Him alone. 

Hallelujah, Hallelujah! 

Thou Sacred Ardoui, Comfort Sweet, 
Help us to wait with ready feet 



118 Cgrct ©ormcmica. 

And willing heart at Thy command, 
Nor trial fright us from Thy band. 
Lord, make us ready with Thy powers, 
Strengthen the flem in weaker hours, 
That as good warriors we may force 
Through life and death to Thee our courfe. 

Hallelujah, Hallelujah! 

Luther. 1524. 



Itira (g>zxmamta. "9 



TRINITY SUNDAY. 

And God faid, Let us make man in our image.-— 
From the Lesson. 

MOST High and Holy Trinity! 
Who of Thy mercy mild 
Haft form'd me here in Time, to be 
Thy image and Thy child: 
Oh let me love Thee day and night 
With all my foul, with all my might; 
Oh come, Thyfelf my foul prepare, 
And make Thy dwelling ever there ! 

Father ! replenish with Thy grace 

This longing heart of mine, 
Make it Thy quiet dwelling-place, 
Thy facred inmoft fhrine ! 
Forgive that oft my fpirit wears 
Her time and ftrength in trivial cares, 
Enfold her in Thy changelefs peace, 
So fhe from all but Thee may ceafe! 

O God the Son ! Thy wifdom's light 

On my dark reafon pour ; 
Forgive that things of fenfe and fight 

Were all her ]oy of yore ; 



Cgra ©mnamra. 



Henceforth let every thought and deed 
On Thee be fix'd, from Thee proceed, 
Draw me to Thee, for I would rife 
Above thefe earthly vanities! 

O Holy Ghoft! Thou fire of love, 

Enkindle with Thy flame my will; 
Come with Thy ftrength, Lord, from above, 
Help me Thy bidding to fulfil: 
Forgive that I fo oft have done 
What I as fmful ought to fhun; 
Let me with pure and quenchlefs fire 
Thy favour and Thyfelf defire ! 

Moll High and Holy Trinity! 

Draw me away far hence, 
And fix upon eternity 

All powers of foul and fenfe ! 
Make me at one within; at one 
With Thee on earth; when life is done 
Take me to dwell in light with Thee, 
Moll High and Holy Trinity ! 

Angelus. 1657. 



juira ©rnnanica. 



FIRST SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

God is Love . . and herein is love, not that we loved 
God, but that He loved us. — From the Epistle. 

ON wings of faith, ye thoughts, fly hence, 
Roam o'er Eternity's vail field, 
Surpafs the bounds of time and fenfe, 
And rife to Him who hath reveal'd 
That He" is Love : there paufe, and aweftruck view 
That ancient love with every morning new ! 

Ere earth's foundations yet were laid, 

Or heaven's fair roof were fpread abroad, 
Ere man a living foul was made, 

Love ilirr'd within the heart of God; 
Love fill'd the long futurity with good, 
And grace to help at need befide her flood. 

Thy loving counfel gave to me 

True life in Chrill Thy only Son, 
Whom Thou haft made our way to Thee, 
From whom all grace flows ever down. 
Whofe precious blood can make us pure and whole, 
And blefs and hallow all our inmoft foul. 

O Love, that long ere time began, 

That precious name of child beilow'd; 
That open'd Heaven on earth to man, 
And call'd us finners fons of God ; 
Thy gracious promptings move the Father's hand, 
And on the page of life our names fhall Hand! 



Cgra ®ermanfca. 



Ah happy hours, whene'er upfprings 

My foul to yon Eternal Source, 
Whence the glad river downward lings, 
Watering with goodnefs all my courfe, 
So that each pairing day anew I prove 
How tender and how true my Father's love! 

For what am I ? At His command 

The million creatures of His power 
Start into life on fea and land; 

Oh why mould God fuch bleffings fhower 
On me, who am a leaf that fadeth fail, 
A little Ihifting dull before the blaft! 

I am not worthy, Lord, that Thou 

Shouldft fuch companion on me fhow ; 
That He who made the world Ihould bow 
To cheer with love a wretch fo low. 
O Father, I would utterly refign 
Myfelf to Thee ; take me, and make me Thine. 

When ftrength and heart grow faint and fad, 

From battling long with heavy pain, 

Thy fmile Ihines forth to make me glad, 

Thou crownell me with joy again ; 

Then I behold Thy Spirit's wondrous power, 

Whofe work is mightieft in our weakell hour. 

Forth from Thy rich and bounteous ilore 

Life's common bleffings daily flow, 
More than we dare to alk, far more 
Than we deferve, doll Thou bellow. 
My heart diflblves in tears of thankfulnefs, 
To fee how true Thy care, how quick to blefs. 



Cura ©ermanfca. 1*3 



Nor here alone : hope pierces far 

Through all the fhades of earth and time; 

Faith mounts beyond the fartheft ftar, 
Yon mining heights fhe fain would climb, 

And gazing on eternity behold 

The promifed land, our heritage of old. 

Can I with lovelefs heart receive 

Tokens of love that never ceafe ? 
Can I be thanklefs ftill, and grieve 
Him who is all my joy and peace? 
Ah Friend of Man, were I to turn from Thee, 
Myfelf were fure my own worft enemy. 

Could I but honour Thee aright, 

Noble and fweet my fong ihould be; 
That earth and heaven mould learn Thy might, 
And what my God hath done for me. 
There is no mufic fweet as is Thy name, 
No joy fo deep as pondering o'er Thy fame. 

O heart redeem'd! thou think'fl it long 

Till the appointed hour be come, 
When thou fhalt join the angels' fong 

To that Fair Love that brought thee home. 
Have patience, heart; time hurries fail away, 
Soon ihalt thou reach the one Eternal Day. 

J. G. Hermann. 1747. 



i24 * Cgra Gfiermamca. 



SECOND SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

And this is His commandment ; That we fliould be- 
lieve on the name of His Son Jefus Chrift, and love 
one another, as He gave us commandment. — From 
the Epistle. 

' EART and heart together bound, 
Seek in God your true repofe, 
In your love the price be found 
Of your Saviour's love and woes ; 
We the members, He the Head, 

He the fun, we beams He mowers, 
Brethren by one Matter led, 
We are His, and He is ours. 

Children of His realm draw near, 

Make your covenant ftronger ftill, 
From your hearts allegiance fwear 

Unto Him who conquer'd ill. 
If your bonds are yet too weak, 

If but fragile yet they prove, 
Help from His good Spirit feek 

Who can fteel the chains of love. 

Only fuch love will fufEce, 

As the love that dwells in Him, 
Love that from the crofs ne'er flies, 

Love that fpares not life or limb 



Cgra ©rnncmua. I2 5 



Twas for finners He was flain, 
'Twas for foes He (hed His blood, 

That His death for all might gain 
Endlefs Ufe— the Higheft Good. 

Thus, O trueft Friend, unite 

All Thy confecrated band, 
That their hearts be fet aright 

To fulfil Thy laft command. 
Each mull onward urge his friend, 

Helping him in word and deed, 
Love's bleft pathway to afcend, 

Following where Thou, Lord, doll lead. 

Thou who doll command that all 

Pradlife love that bear Thy name, 
Wake the dead, new followers call, 

Touch the flothful with Thy flame. 
Let us live, O Lord, at one, 

As Thou with the Father art, 
That through all the world be none 

Of Thy members left apart. 

Then were given what Thou hall fought, 

In the Son were all men freed, 
And the world at laft were taught 

That Thy rule is bleft indeed. 
Father of all fouls, we praife 

Thee who fhineft in the Son ; 
Lord, to Thee our hymns we raife, 

Who haft all men to Thee drawn ! 

After Zinzendorf. 
About 1 73 1. 



i26 £gra ©nmanua. 



THIRD SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

Caft all your care upon Him, for He careth for you. 
—From the Epistle. 



W 



HAT within me and without, 
Hourly on my fpirit weighs, 
Burdening heart and foul with doubt, 
Darkening all my weary days : 
In it I behold Thy will, 

God, who giveft reft and peace, 
And my heart is calm and ftill, 
Waiting till Thou fend releafe. 

God ! Thou art my rock of ftrength, 

And my home is in Thine arms, 
Thou wilt fend me help at length, 

And I feel no wild alarms. 
Sin nor Death can pierce the fhield 

Thy defence has o'er me thrown, 
Up to Thee myfelf I yield, 

And my forrows are Thine own. 

When my trials tarry long, 

Unto Thee I look and wait, 
Knowing none, though keen and ftrong, 

Can my truft in Thee abate. 



£gva ©ermanua. 



And this faith I long have nurft, 
Comes alone, O God, from Thee; 

Thou my heart didft open firft, 
Thou didft fet this hope in me. 

Chriftians! call on Him your load, 

To your tower of refuge fly ; 
Know He is the Living God, 

Ever to His creatures nigh. 
Seek His ever-open door 

In your hours of utmoft need ; 
All your hearts before Him pour, 

He will fend you help with fpeed. 

But haft thou fome darling plan, 

Cleaving to the things of earth ? 
Leaneft thou for aid on man ? 

Thou wilt find him nothing worth. 
Rather truft the One alone 

Whofe is endlefs power and love, 
And the help He gives His own, 

Thou in very deed fhalt prove. 

On Thee, O my God, I reft, 

Letting life float calmly on, 
For I know the la ft is beft, 

When the crown of joy is won. 
In Thy might all things I bear, 

In Thy love find bitters fweet, 
And with all my grief and care 

Sit in patience at Thy feet. 



128 Cgra (Btvmamta. 

O my foul, why art thou vex'd? 

Let things go e'en as they will; 
Though to thee they feem perplex'd, 

Yet His order they fulfil. 
Here He is thy ftrength and guard, 

Power to harm thee here has none; 
Yonder will He each reward 

For the works he here has done. 

Let Thy mercy's wings be fpread 

O'er me, keep me clofe to Thee, 
In the peace Thy love doth Ihed, 

Let me dwell eternally. 
Be my All ; in all I do 

Let me only feek Thy will, 
Where the heart to Thee is true, 

All is peaceful, calm and ftilL 

A. H. Francke. i 663- i 727. 



€ma ©ormctmca. ^9 



FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

J reckon that the fufferings of this prefent time are 
not worthy to be compared with the glory that mall be 
revealed in us. — From the Epistle. 

WOULD'ST thou inherit life with Chrift 
on high? 
Then count the coft, and know- 
That here on earth below 
Thou needs muft fuffer with thy Lord and die. 
We reach that gain to which all elfe is lols, 
But through the crofs. 

Oh think what forrows Chrift Himfelf has known ! 

The fcorn, and anguifh fore, 

The bitter death He bore, 
Ere he afcended to His heavenly throne; 
And deemeft thou, thou canft with right complain, 
Whate'er thy pain? 

Not e'en the fharpeft forrows we can fed, 
Nor keeneft pangs, we dare 
With that great blifs compare 
When God His glory mall in us reveal, 
That mall endure when our brief woes are o'er 
For evermore! 

Simon Dach. 1640. 



*3° £$xa (femamca. 



FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

And who is he that will harm you, if ye be followers 
of that which is good ? But and if ye fuffer for right- 
eoufnefs' fake, happy are ye ; and be not afraid of their 
terror, neither be troubled ; but fan&ify the Lord God 
in your hearts. — From the Epistle. 

IF God be on my fide, 
Then let who will oppofe, 
For oft ere now to Him I cried 
And He hath quell'd my foes. 
If Jefus be my Friend, 
If God doth love me well, 
What matters all my foes intend, 

Though ftrong they be and fell. 

Here I can firmly reft, 

I dare to boaft of this, 
That God the Higheft and the Beft, 

My Friend and Father is. 

From dangerous fnares Ke faves, 

Where'er He bids me go 
He checks the ftorms and calms the waves, 

Nor lets aught work me woe. 

I reft upon the ground 
Of Jefus and His blood, 
For 'tis through Him that I have found 
The True Eternal Good. 



figra ©ermamca. l 3 l 

Nought have I of mine own, 
Nought in the life I lead, 
What Chrifl hath given me, that alone 
Is worth all love indeed. 

His Spirit in me dwells, 

O'er all my mind He reigns, 
All care and fadnefs He difpels, 

And foothes away all pains. 

He profpers day by day 

His work within my heart, 
Till I have ftrength and faith to fay, 

Thou God my Father art! 

When weaknefs on me lies 

And tempts me to defpair, 
He lpeaketh words and utters fighs 

Of more than mortal prayer; 

But what no tongue can tell, 

Thou God canft hear and fee, 
Who readeft in the heart full well 

If aught there pleafeth Thee. 

He whifpers in my breaft 

Sweet words of holy cheer, 
How he who feeks in God his reft 

Shall ever find Him near; 

How God hath built above 

A city fair and new, 
Where eye and heart fhall fee and prove 

What faith has counted true. 



l 3 2 £gra (Sfemamca. 

There is prepared on high 

My heritage, my lot; 
Though here on earth I fall and die, 

My heaven mall fail me not. 

Though here my days are dark, 

And oft my tears mull rain, 
Whene'er my Saviour's light I mark, 

All things grow bright again. 

Who joins him to that Lord 
Whom Satan flies and hates, 

Shall find himfelf defpifed, abhorr'd, 
For him the burden waits 
Of mockery and lhame, 
Heap'd on his guiltlefs head; 

And crofTes, trials, cruel blame, 
Shall be his daily bread. 

I knew it long ere now, 

Yet am I not afraid; " 
The God to whom I pledged my vow, 

Will furely fend His aid. 

At coll of all I have, 

At coil of life and limb, 
I cling to God who yet mall fave, 

I will not turn from Him. 

The world may fail and flee, 
Thou flandeil fall for ever, 
Not fire, or fword, or plague, from Thee 
My trailing foul fhall fever. 



Cyra ©rnimntca. *32 

No hunger, and no thirft, 
No poverty or pain, 
Let mighty princes do their worft, 
Shall fright me back again. 

No joys that angels know, 

No throne or wide-fpread fame, 
No love or lofs, no fear or woe, 

No grief of heart or fhame — 

Man cannot aught conceive 

Of pleafure or of harm, 
That e'er could tempt my foul to leave 

Her refuge in Thine arm. 

My heart for gladnefs fprings, 

It cannot more be fad, 
For very joy it laughs and lings, 

Sees nought but funlhine glad. 

The fun that glads mine eyes 

Is Chrifl the Lord I love, 
I ling for joy of that which lies 

Stored up for us above. 

Paul Gerhardt. i6ijo. 



i34 Cgra ®*nncmica. 



SEXTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

Know ye not, that fo many of us as were baptized 
into Chrift, were baptized into His death ? — From THE 
Epistle. 



w 



ELL for him who all things lofing, 
E'en himfelf doth count as nought, 
Still the one thing needful choofing 
That with all true blifs is fraught! 



Well for him who nothing knoweth 
But his God, whofe boundlefs love 

Makes the heart wherein it gloweth, 
Calm and pure as faints above ! 

Well for him who all forfaking, 
Walketh not in ihadows vain, 

But the path of peace is taking 

Through this vale of tears and pain ! 

Oh that we our hearts might fever 
From earth's tempting vanities, 

Fixing them on Him for ever 
In whom all our fulnefs lies! 

Oh that we might Him difcover 

Whom with longing love we've fought, 

Join ourfelves to Him for ever, 
For without Him all is nought ! 



£gra (facxmamta. 135 

Oh that ne'er our eyes might wander 
From our God, fo might we ceafe 

Ever o'er our fins to ponder, 
And our confcience be at peace ! 

Thou abyfs of love and goodnefs, 

Draw us by Thy crofs to Thee, 
That our fenfes, foul and fpirit, 

Ever one with Chrift may be ! 

Anon. 



*3 6 £gra ©mnanka. 



SEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

O Lord, how manifold are Thy works ; in wifdoi 
haft Thou made them all; the earth is full of Th 
riches. — Psalm civ. 24. 

GO forth, my heart, and feek delight 
In all the gifts of God's great might, 

Thefe pleafant mmmer hours: 
Look how the plains for thee and me 
Have deck'd themfelves moft fair to fee, 
All bright and fweet with flowers. 

The trees ftand thick and dark with leaves, 
And earth o'er all her dull now weaves 

A robe of living green; 
Nor filks of Solomon compare 
With glories that the tulips wear, 

Or lilies' fpotlefs fheen. 

The lark foars fingmg into fpace, 
The dove forfakes her hiding-place, 

And coos the woods among; 
The richly-gifted nightingale, 
Pours forth her voice o'er hill and dale, 

And floods the fields with fong. 

Here with her brood the hen doth walk, 

There builds and guards his neft the ftork, 

The fleet-wing'd fwallows pais; 



£vxa ©nrmcmka. 137 

The fwift flag leaves his rocky home. 
And down the light deer bounding come 
To taile the long rich grafs. 

The brooks rufh gurgling through the fand, 
And from the trees on either hand, 

Cool lhadows o'er them fall ; 
The meadows at their fide are glad 
With herds; and hark! the Ihepherd lad 

Sends forth his mirthful call. 

And humming, hovering to and fro, 
The never-wearied fwarms forth go 

To feek their honey'd food ; 
And through the vine's yet feeble lhoots 
Stream daily upwards from her roots 

New ftrength and juices good. 

The corn Iprings up, a wealth untold, 
A light to gladden young and old, 

Who now their voices lift 
To Him who gives fuch plenteous ftore, 
And makes the cup of life run o'er 

With many a noble gift. 

Thy mighty working, mighty God, 
Wakes all my powers; I look abroad 

And can no longer reft: 
I too mufl ling when all things ling, 
And from my heart the praifes ring 

The Higheft loveth bell. 



f 3 8 Cgra ®n*manica. 

I think, Art Thou fo good to us, 
And fcattereft joy and beauty thus 

O'er this poor earth of ours ; 
What nobler glories mall be given 
Hereafter in Thy fhining heaven, 

Set round with golden towers ! 

What thrilling joy when on our fight 
Chrift's garden beams in cloudlefs light, 

Where all the air is fweet, 
Still laden with the unwearied hymn 
From all the thoufand feraphim 

Who God's high praife repeat! 

Oh were I there ! Oh that I now, 

Dear God, before Thy throne could bow, 

And bear my heavenly palm! 
Then like the angels would I raife 
My voice, and fmg Thy endlefs praife 

In many a fweet-toned pfalm. 

Nor can I now, O God, forbear, 
Though ftill this mortal yoke I wear, 

To utter oft Thy name; 
But ftill my heart is bent to fpeak 
Thy praifes; ftill, though poor and weak, 

Would I fet forth Thy fame. 

But help me; let Thy heavenly fhowers 
Revive and blefs my fainting powers, 
And let me thrive and grow 



Cgvct ®ermamca. 139 



Beneath the fummer of Thy grace, 

And fruits of faith bud forth apace 

While yet I dwell below. 

And fet me, Lord, in Paradife 

When I have bloomed beneath thefe fkies 

Till my lafl leaf is flown ; 
Thus let me ferve Thee here in time, 
And after, in that happier clime, 

And Thee, my God, alone! 

Paul Gerhardt. 1659. 



£m*a ®n*manica. 



EIGHTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

Brethren, we are debtors, not to the rlefh, to live 
after the rlefh. For if ye live after the fiefh, ye ihall 
die ; but if ye through the Spirit do mortify the deeds 
of the body, ye fliall live. — From the Epistle. 

OGOD, O Spirit, Light of all that live, 
Who doll on us that fit in darknefs 
fhine, 
Our darknefs ever with Thy light doth 
ftrive, 
In vain Thou lur'it us with Thy beams divine. 
Yet none, O Spirit, from Thine eye can hide, 
Gladly will I Thy fearching glance abide. 

Search all my hidden parts, whate'er impure 

Thy Light difcovers there, do Thou deftroy; 
The bitterefl pain I willingly endure, 
Such pain is folio w'd by eternal joy, 
Thou'lt cleanfe me from my ftains of darkefl hue, 
And in Chrift's image form my foul anew. 

I cannot ftay the venom'd power of fin, 

'Tis Thy anointing only can avail; 
Oh make my fpirit new and right within, 
For without Thee my utmoft efforts fail. 
Life to my cold dead foul I cannot give, 
Be Thou my life, fo only mall I live. 



£ma ©nmanica. h» 

O Breath from out the Eternal Silence, blow 

All foftly o'er my fpirit's barren ground, 
All precious fulnefs of my God bellow, 

That where erft fin andfhame alone were found, 
Faith, love, and holy reverence may upfpring, 
In fpirit and in truth to worfhip God our King. 

Oh let my thoughts, my actions and my will 

Obedient folely to Thy impulfe move, 
My heart and fenfes keep Thou blamelefs Hill, 
Fix'd and abforb'd in God's unutter'd love. 
Thy praying, teaching, ftriving, in my heart, 
Let me not quench, nor make Thee to depart. 

Fount, O Spirit, who doft take and mow 
Things of the Son to us, who cryftal clear, 

From God's throne and the Lamb's, doll cealelefj 
flow 
Into the quiet hearts that feek Thee here ; 
I open wide my mouth, and thirfting link 
Befide Thy llream, its living waves to drink. 

1 give myfelf to Thee, to Thee alone, 

From all elfe funder'd, Thou art ever near, 
The creature and myfelf I all difown, 

Trulling with inmoll faith that God is here! 
O God, O Spirit, Light of Life, we fee 
None ever wait in vain, who wait for Thee. 

Tersteegen. i 73 i. 



H 2 fgva ©mnanica. 



NINTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

How long halt ye between two opinions ? If the 
Lord be God, follow Him ; but if Baal, then follow 
him. — From the Lesson. 

WHY halteft thus, deluded heart, 
Why wavereft longer in thy choice? 
Is it fo hard to choofe the part 
Offer'd by Heaven's entreating voice? 
Oh look with clearer eyes again, 
Nor ftrive to enter in, in vain. 

Prefs on! 

Remember, 'tis not Caefar's throne, 
Nor earthly honour, wealth or might, 

Whereby God's favour mail be mown 
To him who conquers in this fight; 

Himfelf and an eternity 

Of blifs and reft He offers thee. 

Prefs on ! 

God crowneth no divided heart; 

Oh hallow to Him all thy life ! 
Who loveth Jefus but in part, 

He works himfelf much pain and ftrife, 
And gains what he deferveth well, 
Here conflict, and hereafter hell. 

Prefs on! 



fjjva ®a*manica. H3 

Who wreftling long with many a cry, 

Can bid farewell at laft to all; 
Yet loveth ftill the Lord moft High, 

Loves Him alone whate'er befall, 
Is counted worthy of the crown 
And on a kingly throne fet down. 
Prefs on! 

Then break the rotten bonds away 

That hinder you your race to run, 
That make you linger oft and Hay; 

Oh be your courfe afrefh begun ! 
Let no falfe reft your foul deceive, 
Up ! 'tis a Heaven ye muft achieve ! 
Prefs on! 

Omnipotence is on your fide, 

And wifdom watches o'er your heads, 

And God Himfelf will be your guide 
So ye but follow where He leads; 

How many guided by His hand, 

Have reach'd ere now their native land. 
Prefs on! 

Let not the body dull the foul, 

Its weaknefs, fears, and floth defpife; 

Man toils and roams from pole to pole 
To gain fome earthly fleeting prize, 

The Higheft Good he little cares 

To win, or flriving foon defpairs. 
Prefs on. 



! 44 Cgra ©^rmantca. 



Oh help each other, haften on, 

Behold the goal is nigh at hand; 
Soon fhall the battle-field be won, 

Soon fhall your King before you ftand! 
To calmeft reft He leads you now, 
And fets His crown upon your brow. 
Prefs on. 

Lehr. 1733. 



Cjjva ®n*manica. H5 



TENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

As the hart panteth after the water brooks, even fo 
panteth my foul after Thee, O God.— Psalm xlii. i. 



O 



GOD, I long Thy light to fee, 
My God, I hourly think on Thee; 
Oh draw me up, nor hide Thy face, 
But help me from Thy holy place. 



Ah how mail I my freedom win? 
How break this heavy yoke of fin? 
My fainting fpirit thirfts for Thee, 
Come, Lord, to help and fet me free. 

My heart is fet to do Thy will, 
But all my deeds are faulty ftill; 
My beft attempts are nothing worth, 
But foil'd with cleaving taint of earth. 

Remember that I am Thy child, 
Forgive whate'er my foul defiled, 
Blot out my fins, that I may rife 
Freely to Thee beyond the fkies. 

Help me to love the world no more, 
Be Matter of my houfe and ftore, 
The fhield of faith around me throw, 
And break the arrows of my foe. 



! 4 6 £gra (femcmica. 

Fain would my heart henceforward be 
Fix'd, O my God, alone on Thee, 
That heart and foul by Thee pofleft, 
May find in Thee their perfect reft. 

Begone, ye pleafures falfe and vain, 
Untafted, undefired remain! 
In heaven alone thofe joys abound, 
Where all my true delight is found. 

Oh take away whate'er has flood 
Between me and the Higheft Good; 
I afk no better boon than this, 
To find in God my only blifs. 

Anton Uirich, 
Duke of Brunfwick. 1667. 



£gra ®n*manua. H7 



ELEVENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

In Thy prefence is fulnefs of joy ; at Thy right 
hand there are pleafures for evermore. — Psalm xvi. 1 1 . 

O FRIEND of fouls, how well is me 
Whene'er Thy love my fpirit calms ! 
From forrow's dungeon forth I flee, 
And hide me in Thy fhelt'ring arms. 
The night of weeping flies away 
Before the heart-reviving ray 

Of love, that beams from out Thy breaft; 
Here is my heaven on earth begun; 
Who were not joyful had he won 
In Thee, O God, his joy and reft! 

The world may call herfelf my foe, 

So be it ; for I truft her not, 
E'en though a friendly face me mow, 

And heap with her good things my lot. 
In Thee alone will I rejoice, 
Thou art the Friend, Lord, of my choice, 

For Thou art true when friendfhips fail; 
'Mid ftorms of woe Thy truth is ftill 
My anchor; hate me as it will, 

The world mail o'er me ne'er prevail. 

Through deferts of the crofs Thou leadeft, 
I follow leaning on Thy hand ; 



H 8 Cum (Ewmamca 

From out the clouds Thy child Thou feedeft, 
And giv'ft him water from the fand. 

I know Thy wondrous ways will end 

In love and bleffing, Thou true Friend, 
Enough if Thou art ever near ! 

I know, whom Thou wilt glorify, 

And raiie o'er fun and ftars on high, 

Thou lead'il through depths and darknefs here. 

To others Death feems dark and grim, 

But not, Thou Life of life, to me; 
I know Thou ne'er forfakefl him 

Whofe heart and fpirit reft in Thee. 
Oh who would fear his journey's clofe, 
If from dark woods and lurking foes, 

He then find fafety and releafe? 
Nay, rather with a joyful heart 
From this dark region I depart, 

To Thy eternal light and peace. 

O Friend of fouls, then well indeed 

Is me, when on Thy love I lean! 
The world, nor pain, nor death I heed, 

Since Thou, my God, my joy haft been. 
Oh let this peace that Thou haft given, 
Be but a foretafte of Thy heaven, 

For goodnefs infinite is Thine. 
Hence, world, with all thy flattering toys! 
In God alone lie all my joys; 

Oh rich delight, my Friend is mine ! 

Deszler. 1692. 



Cgra ©ermcnuca. H9 



TWELFTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

Not that we are fufricient of ourfelves to think any- 
thing as of ourfelves, but our fufficiency is of God. — 
From the Epistle. 



W 



HO feeks in weaknefs an excufe, 
His fins will vanquifh never; 
Unlefs he heart and mind renews, 
He is deceived for ever. 
The ftraight and narrow way, 
That mines to perfect day, 
He hath not found, hath never trod ; 
Little he knows, I ween, 
What prayer and conflict mean 
To one who hath the light of God. 

In what the world calls weaknefs lurks 

The very ftrength of evil, 

Full mightily it helps the works 

Of our great foe the devil. 

Awake, my foul, awake, 

Quickly thy refuge take 
With Him, the Almighty, who can fave: 

One look from Chrift thy Lord 

Can fever every cord 
That binds thee now, a wretched flave. 



•5° Cgro ©ermankct. 

Know, the firft ftep in Chriftian lore 

Is to depart from fin; 
True faith will leave the world no more 

A place thy heart within. 
Thy Saviour's Spirit firft 
The heavy bonds mull burft, 

Wherein Death bound thee in thy need; 
Then the freed fpirit knows 
What ftrength He gives to thofe 

Who with their Lord are rifen indeed. 

And what Thy Spirit, Lord, began 

Help Thou with inner might! 
Earth has no better gift for man 

Than ftrength and love of right. ■ 
Oh make Thy followers juft 
Who look to Thee in truft, 

Thy ftrength and juftice let us know; 
Our fouls through Thee would wear 
The power of grace, moft fair 

Of all the jewels faith can fhow. 

Strong Son of God, break down Thy foes, 

So fhall we conquer ours; 
Strong in the might from Thee that flows, 
We mourn not lack of powers, 

E'er fince that from above, 

The witnefs of Thy love 
Thy Spirit came, and doth abide 

With us, difpelling fear 

And falfehood, that we here 
May fight and conquer on Thv fide. 



Cgra (Bzxmanka. 



Give ftrength, whene'er our ftrength muft fail; 

Give ftrength the flefh to curb; 
Give ftrength when craft and fin prevail 
To weaken and difturb. 

The world doth lay her fnares 
To catch us unawares, 
Give ftrength to fweep them all away; 
So in our utmoft need, 
And when death comes indeed, 
Thy ftrength fliall be our perfect ftay. 

Marperger. i 7 i 3. 



*5 2 Cgra ©armanka. 



THIRTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Then Hezekiah received the letter of the hands of 
the mefTengers, and read it, and Hezekiah went up into 
the houfe of the Lord, and fpread it before the Lord. — 
From the Lesson. 

LEAVE God to order all thy ways, 
And hope in Him whate'er betide, 
Thou'lt find Him in the evil days 
Thy all-fufficient ltrength and guide 5 
Who trails in God's unchanging love, 
Builds on the rock that nought can move. 

What can thefe anxious cares avail, 
Thefe never-ceafmg moans and iighs? 

What can it help us to bewail 
Each painful moment as it flies? 

Our crofs and trials do but prefs 

The heavier for our bitternefs. 

Only thy reftlefs heart keep ftill, 

And wait in cheerful hope; content 

To take whate'er His gracious will, 
His all-difcerning love hath fent. 

Doubt not our inmoft wants are known 

To Him who chofe us for His own. 



Cgra ©ermamca. 152 

He knows when joyful hours are beft, 

He fends them as He fees it meet; 
When thou haft borne the fiery teft, 

And art made free from all deceit, 
He comes to thee all unaware, 
And makes thee own His loving care. 

Nor, in the heat of pain and ftrife, 

Think God hath call thee off unheard, 

And that the man, whofe profperous life 
Thou envieft, is of Him preferr'd. 

Time paffes and much change doth bring, 

And fets a bound to everything. 

All are alike before His face ; 

'Tis eary to our God moft High 
To make the rich man poor and bale, 

To give the poor man wealth and joy. 
True wonders ftill by Him are wrought, 
Who fetteth up, and brings to nought. 

Sing, pray, and fwerve not from His ways, 

But do thine own part faithfully, 
Truft His rich promifes of grace, 

So fhall they be fulfill'd in thee; 
God never yet forfook at need 
The foul that trufted Him indeed. 

Neumarck. 1653. 
8* 



'54 £|ira ©jermamca. 



FOURTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

And they that are Chrift's have crucified the flerti 
with, the affections and lufts. — From the Epistle. 



O 



CROSS, we hail thy bitter reign, 
O come, thou well-beloved gueft! 

Whofe foreft fufferings work not pain, 
Whofe heavieft burden is but reft. 



Is not our Blefled Saviour bound 

In clofeft ties of love to thofe 
Who faithful to the crofs are found, 

Through ceafelefs tears, through faddeft woes? 

Hark, the confeflbrs of the faith 
Yet of their crofs and fetters boaft; 

All faints have borne it to the death, 
With all the martyrs' radiant holt. 

Pledge of our glorious home afar ! 

Thee, Holy Sign, with joy we take, 
Sign of a peace life could not mar, 

Of juft content death could not make. 

Thou tell'fl how Truth, once crucified, 
Now throned in majefty doth reign, 



fgra ©mnamca. J 55 

How love is blefs'd and glorified, 

That here on earth was mock'd and flain. 



Their names are writ in words of light* 
Who before men their Lord confeft ; 

The bridegroom's cry is heard at night, 
Come to my marriage feaft, ye bleft! 

Who then would faint, nor joy to fhare 
In Chrifl's reproach, in want or pain? 

The bittereft death who would not dare? 
Who fears a martyr's crown to gain? 

Up, Brethren of the Crofs ! and hafte 
Onward where Chrift hath gone before ! 

We hymn His praife the while we tafte 
The fhame and death He fometime bore. 

In bonds and ftripes, in falfeft blame, 
Our crown, our deareft wealth we lee, 

A prifon were a throne, and fhame 
Our chiefeft glory, borne for Thee. 

What though the world contempt may fling 
On us, though oft we ftrive with death, 

The holy angels fpeed to bring 

Our he.p and ftrength, our vi&or's wreath. 

Up, quit the gates where fin abides, 

From earth's doom'd cities quickly come, 

Von eaftern Star full furely guides 
All pilgrims to their Father's home. 

Gotter. 1697. 



*s 6 £ura ©crmanica. 



FIFTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

Therefore take no thought, laying, What fhall we 
eat, or what fhall we drink . . for your Heavenly 
Father knoweth. that ye have need of all thefe things. 
— From the Gospel. 

BE thou content; be ftill before 
His face, at whofe right hand doth reign 
Fulnefs of joy for evermore, 
Without whom all thy toil is vain. 
He is thy living fpring, thy fun, whofe rays 
Make glad with life and light thy dreary days. 
Be thou content. 

Art thou all friendlefs and alone, 

Haft none in whom thou canft confide? 
God careth for thee, lonely one, 
Comfort and help will He provide. 
He fees thy forrows and thy hidden grief, 
He knoweth when to fend thee quick relief; 
Be thou content. 

Thy heart's unfpoken pain He knows, 
Thy fecret iighs He hears full well, 
What to none elfe thou dar'ft difclofe, 
To Him thou mayft with boldnefs tell. 
He is not far away, but ever nigh, 
And anfwereth willingly the poor man's cry. 
Be thou content. 



Cjjrct ©ermcmtca. '5/ 

Why art thou full of anxious fear 

How thou malt be fuftain'd and fed? 
He who hath made and placed thee here, 
Will give thee needful daily bread. 
Canft thou not trull His rich and bounteous hand, 
Who feeds all living things on fea and land? 
Be thou content. 

He who doth teach the little birds 

To find their meat in field and wood, 
Who gives the countlefs flocks and herds, 
Each day their needful drink and food, 
Thy hunger too will furely fatisfy, 
And all thy wants in His good time fupply. 
Be thou content. 

Sayfl thou, I know not how or where, 

No help I fee where'er I turn; 
When of all elfe we moft defpair, 
The riches of God's love we learn; 
When thou and I His hand no longer trace, 
He leads us forth into a pleafant place. 

Be thou content. 

Though long His promifed aid delay, 

At laft it will be furely fent; 
Though thy heart fink in fore difmay, 
The trial for thy good is meant. 
What we have won with pains we hold more fail, 
What tarrieth long is fweeter at the laft. 
Be thou content. 



'5 8 Cgrct ©ermcmica. 

Lay not to heart whate'er of ill 

Thy foes may falfely fpeak of thee, 
Let man defame thee as he will, 
God hears, and judges righteoufly. 
Why fhouldft thou fear, if God be on thy fide, 
Man's cruel anger, or malicious pride ? 

Be thou content. 

We know for us a reft remains, 

When God will give us fweet releafe 
From earth and all our mortal chains, 
And turn our fufferings into peace. 
Sooner or later death will furely come 
To end our forrows, and to take us home. 
Be thou content. 

Home to the chofen ones, who here 

Served their Lord faithfully and well, 
Who died in peace, without a fear, 
And there in peace for ever dwell. 
The Everlafting is their joy and ftay, 
The Eternal Word Himfelf to them doth fay, 
Be thou content. 
Paul Gerhardt. 1670. 



£|)va dkrmamca. 159 



SIXTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER TRINITY. 

And when the Lord faw her, He had companion on 
her and faid unto her, Weep not ! — From the Gospel. 

LEAVE all to God, 
Forfaken one, and ftill thy tears. 

For the Higheft knows thy pain, 
Sees thy fufferings and thy fears; 
Thou ihalt not wait His help in vain, 
Leave all to God. 

Be ftill and truft ! 
For His ftrokes are ftrokes of love, 
Thou mull for thy profit bear; 
He thy filial fear would move, 
Truft thy Father's loving care, 
Be ftill and truft ! 

Know, God is near! 
Though thou think Him far away, 

Though His mercy long have flept, 
He will come and not delay, 

When His child enough hath wept, 
For God is near! 

O teach Him not 
When and how to hear thy prayers; 



160 Cgra (Bwmanica. 

Never doth our God forget, 
He the crofs who longeft bears 
Finds his forrows' bounds are fet, 
Then teach Him not. 

If thou love Him, 
Walking truly in His ways, 

Then no trouble, crofs or death, 
Shakes thy heart, or quells thy praife. 
All things ferve thee here beneath, 
If thou love God! 

Anton Ulrich 
Duke of Brunfwick. 1667. 



Cjjra ©mnamca. 161 



SEVENTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

I befeech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation 
wherewith ye are called, with all lowlinefs and meek- 
nefs, with longfuffering, forbearing one another in love; 
endeavouring to keep the unity of the fpirit in the bond 
of peace. — From the Epistle. 

COME, brethren, let us go ! 
The evening clofeth round, 
'Tis perilous to linger here 
On this wild defert ground. 
Take courage as ye wend 
On towards eternity, 

From ftrength to ftrength your courfe mail be, 
And good at laft your end. 

We fhall not rue our choice, 
Though ftrait our path and deep, 
We know that He who call'd us here 
His word fhall ever keep. 
Then follow, trufting; come, 
And let each fet his face 
Toward yonder fair and blefled place, 
Intent to reach our home. 

The body and the houfe 
Deck not, but deck the heart 



1 62 £g ra ©ermamca. 

With all your powers; we are but guefls, 

Ere long we mull depart. 

Eafe brings difeafe; content 
Howe'er his lot may fall, 
A pilgrim bears and bows to all, 

For foon the time is fpent. 

Come, children, let us go ! 

Our Father is our guide; 
And when the way grows fteep and dark, 

He journeys at our fide. 

Our fpirits He would cheer, 
The funfhine of His love 
Revives and helps us as we rove, 

Ah, bleft our lot e'en here! 

Each haften bravely on, 
Not yet our goal is near; 
Look to the fiery pillar oft, 
That tells the Lord is here. 
Onward your glances fend, 

Love beckons us, nor think 

That they who following chance to link, 
Shall mifs their journey's end. 

Come, children, let us go ! 

We travel hand in hand; 
Each in his brother finds his joy 

In this wild ftranger land. 

As children let us be, 
Nor by the way fall out, 
The angels guard us round about. 

And help us brotherly. 



€ma ©armanita. 163 

t- . 

The ftrong be quick to raife 
The weaker when they fall; 
Let love and peace and patience bloom 
In ready help for all. 
In love yet clofer bound, 

Each would be leaft, yet ftill 
On love's fair path moft pure from ill, 
Moll loving, would be found. 

Come, wander on with joy, 
For fhorter grows the way, 
Each riling sun brings on the time 
When in the grave we lay 
The body down; awhile 

Have truth and courage yet, 

Your hopes above more fully fet, 
Carelefs of things more vile. 

It will not laft for long, 

A little farther roam; 
It will not laft much longer now 

Ere we fhall reach our home; 

There fhall we ever reft, 

There with our Father dwell, 

With all the faints who ferved Him well, 

There truly, deeply bleft. 

For this all things we dare, — 
Tis worth the rifk I trow, — 
Renouncing all that clogs our courle, 
Or weighs us down below. 



l6 4 Cgrd (Smnamca. 

O world, thou art too fmall, 

Wc feek another higher, 

Whither Chrift guides us ever nigher, 
Where God is all in all. 



Friend of our perfect choice, 
Thou Joy of all that live, 
Being that know'ft not chance or change, 
What courage doll Thou give! 
All beauty, Lord, we fee, 
All blifs and life and love, 
In Him in whom we live and move, 
And we are glad in Thee ! 

Tersteegen. i 73 i 



&$xa (Btvmanka. ^s 



EIGHTEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Waiting for the coming of our Lord Jefus Chrift, 
who fhall alfo confirm you unto the end. — From the 
Epistle. 

THOUGH all to Thee were faithlefs, 
I yet were true my Head, 
To fhow that love is deathlefs, 
From earth not wholly fled. 
Here didft Thou live in fadnefs, 

And die in pain for me, 
Wherefore I give with gladneis, 
My heart and foul to Thee. 

I could weep night and morning 

That Thou haft died, and yet 
So few will heed Thy warning, 

So many Thee forget. 
O loving and true-hearted, 

How much for us didft Thou! 
Yet is Thy fame departed, 

And none regards it now. 

But ftill Thy love befriends us, 

Of every heart the guide; 
Unfailing help it lends us, 

Though all had turn'd aflde. 



1 66 £g ra ©frmcmka. 

Oh! fuch love foon or later 

Muft conquer, muft be felt, 
Then at Thy feet the traitor 
• In bitter tears mall melt. 

Lord, I have inly found Thee, 

Depart Thou not from me, 
But wrap Thy love around me, 

And keep me clofe to Thee. 
Once too my brethren, yonder 

Upgazing where Thou art, 
Shall learn Thy love with wonder, 

And link upon Thy heart. 

Novalis. 

About 1795. 



£m*ct ©mnanica. » 6 7 



NINETEENTH SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

But ye have not fo learned Chrift ; if fo be that ye 
have heard Him, and have been taught by Him, as 
the truth is in Jefus : that ye put off, concerning the 
former converfation, the old man, which is corrupt 
according to the deceitful lufts ; and be renewed in 
the fpirit of your mind ; and that ye put on the new 
man, which after God is created in righteoufnefs and 
true holinefs.— From the Epistle. 

OH well for him who all things braves, 
A foldier of the Lord to be, 
Whom vice counts not among her flaves, 
From envy, pride and paffion free; 
Who with the world of evil wars, 
And bows his will beneath God's laws. 

Who follows Chrift whate'er betide, 

Is worthy of a foldier's name ; 
Is He thy Way, thy L*ght, thy Guide, 

'Tis meet thou alfo bear His fhame : 
Who fhrinks from dark Gethfemane, 
Shall Tabor's glories never fee. 

What profits it that Chrift hath deign'd 
To wear our mortal nature thus, 

If we ourfelves have ne'er attain'd 
That God reveal Himfelf in us ? 



1 68 £grct (Etfrmanicct. 

The pure and virgin foul alone 
He choofeth for His earthly throne. 

What profits it that Chrift. is born, 
And bringeth childhood back to men, 

Unlefs our long-loft right we mourn, 
And win through penitence again, 

And lead a God-like life on earth, 

As children of the fecond birth? 

What profits all that Chrift hath taught, 
If man is flave to reafon flail, 

And worldly wifdom, honour, thought, 
Rule all his acts, and move his will? 

He follows what his Lord doth teach 

Who true denial of felf would reach. 

What profit us His deeds and life, 
His meeknefs, love fo quick to blefs, 

If we give place to pride and flrife, 
Difhonouring thus His holinefs ? 

What profits it, if for reward, 

And not in faith, we call Him Lord? 

What profits us His agony, 

If we endure not pain and fcorn ? 

'Tis combat brings forth victory, 
Of forrow fweeteft joys are born; 

And ne'er to him Chrift's crown is given, 

Who hath not here with Adam ftriven. 

What profit ye His death and crofs, 
Unlefs to felf ye alfo die? 



£pra (femanica. l6 9 

Ye love your life to find it lofs, 

Afraid the flefh to crucify. 
Wouldft live to this world flill? Then know, 
Chrifl's death to thee is barren fhow. 

What profit that he loofed and broke 

All bonds, if ye in league remain 
With earth ? Who weareth Satan's yoke 

Shall call Him Mailer but in vain. 
Count ye the foul for reconciled, 
Yet flave to earth, by fin defiled? 

What profits it that He is rifen, 

If dead in fins thou yet doft lie? 
If yet thou cleaveft to thy prifon, 

What profit that He dwells on high? 
His triumph will avail thee nought, 
If thou hail ne'er the battle fought. 

Then live and fuffer, do and bear, 
As Chrift thy pattern here hath done, 

And feek His innocence to wear, 

That He may count thee of His own. 

Who loveth Chrift mull live at war 

With all that breaks His holy law. 

Anon. 



1 70 Hgrct ©armamcct. 



TWENTIETH SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Singing and making melody in your heart unto the 
Lord ; giving thanks always tor all things unto God 
and the Father, in the name of our Lord Jefus Chrift. 
— From the Epistle. 

OH would I had a thoufand tongues, 
To found Thy praife o'er land and fea ! 
Oh ! rich and fweet fhould be my fongs, 
Of all my God has done for me ! 
With thankfulnefs my heart mull often fwell, 
But mortal lips Thy praifes faintly tell. 

Oh that my voice could far refound 

Up to yon ftars that o'er me mine! 
Would that my blood for joy might bound 
Through every vein, while life is mine ! 
Would that each pulfe were gratitude, each breath 
A fong to Him who keeps me fafe from death! 

O all ye powers of foul and mind, 

Arife, keep filence thus no more; 
Put forth your ftrength, and ye mail find 
Your nobleft work is to adore. 
O foul and body, make ye pure and meet, 
With heartfelt praife your God and Lord to greet. 



C^ra <&£xmamta. *7i 



Ye little leaves fo frefh and green, 

That dance for joy in fummer air, 
Ye flender graffes, bright and keen, 

Ye flowers fo wondrous fweet and fair; 
Ye only live to fhow your Maker's fame, 
Help me his loving-kindnefs to proclaim. 

O all ye living things that throng 

With breath and motion earth and fky, 
Be ye companions in my fong, 

Help me to raife His praifes high; 
For my unaided powers are far too weak 
The glories of His mighty works to fpeak. 

And firft, O Father, praife to Thee 

For all I am and all I have, 
It was Thy merciful decree 

That all thofe bleffings richly gave, 
Which o'er the earth are fcatter'd far and near, 
To help and gladden us who fojourn here. 

And, deareft Jefus, bleft be Thou, 

Whofe heart with pity overflows, 
Thou rich in help ! who deign'dfl to bow 
To earth, and tafte her keeneft woes; 
Thy death has burit. my bonds and fet me free, 
Has made me Thine; henceforth I cling to Thee. 

Nor lefs to Thee, O Holy Ghoft, 

Be everlafting honours paid, 
For all Thy comfort, Lord, and moll 

That I a child of life am made 



Cgrct (tibttmama. 



By Thy deep lore; my good deeds are not mine, 
Thou workefl them through me, O light Divine. 

Yes, Lord, through all my changing days, 

With each new fcene afrefh I mark 

How wondroufly Thou guid'fl my ways, 

Where all feems troubled, wilder'd, dark; 

When dangers thicken faft, and hopes depart, 

Thy light beams comfort on my linking heart. 

Shall I not then be fill'd with joy, 

Shall I not praife Thee evermore? 
Triumphant fongs my lips employ, 
E'en when my cup of woe runs o'er. 
Nay, though the heavens mould vanifh as a fcroll, 
Nothing mall ihake or daunt my trailing foul. 

But of Thy goodnefs will I ling 

As long as I have life and breath, 
Offerings of thanks I daily bring 
Until my heart is hull in death; 
And when at lafl my lips grow pale and cold, 
Yet in my fighs Thy praifes fhall be told. 

Father, do Thou in mercy deign 

To liften to my early lays; 
Once fhall I learn a nobler ftrain, 

Where angels ever hymn Thy praife, 
There in the radiant choir I too fhall fing 
Loud hallelujahs to my glorious King. 

Mentzer. 1704, 



Cgra ©crmartua. >73 



TWENTY-FIRST SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Be ftrong in the Lord, and in the power of His might. 
Put on the whole armour of God, that ye may be able 
to ftand againft the wiles of the devil. For we wreltle 
not againft flefh and blood, but againft principalities, 
againft powers, againft the rulers of the darkneis of this 
world, againft fpiritual wickednefs in high places. — 
From the Epistle. 

GOD is our ftronghold firm and fore, 
Our trufty fhield and weapon, 
He mail deliver us, whate'er 

Of ill to us may happen. 
Our ancient Enemy 
In earneft now is he, 
Much craft and great might 
Arm him for the fight, 
On earth is not his fellow. 

Our might is nought but weaknefs, foon 

Should we the battle lofe, 
But for us fights the rightful Man, 
Whom God Himfelf doth choofe. 
Afkeft thou His name? 
'Tis Jefus Chrift, the fame 
Whom Lord of Hofls we call, 
God only over all; 
None from the field can drive Him. 



*74 Cgrct ®amcmka. 

What though the world were full of fiends, 

That would us iheer devour ! 
We know we yet fhall win the day, 
We fear not all their power. 
The Prince of this world flill 
May ftruggle as he will, 
He nothing can prevail, 
A word fhall make him quail, 
For he is judged of Heaven. 

The word of God they fhall not touch, 

Yet have no thanks therefor, 
God by His Spirit and His gifts, 
Is with us in the war. 

Then let them take our life, 
Goods, honour, children, wife, 
Though nought of thefe we fave, 
Small profit fhall they have, 
The kingdom ours abideth! 

Luther. 1530. 



Ctjra ©vrmamca. 175 



TWENTY-SECOND SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Truft in the Lord with all thine heart, and lean not 
unto thine own underftanding. — From the Lesson. 

HOW bleft to all Thy followers, Lord, the 
road 
By which Tnou lead'il them on, yet 
oft how ftrange ! 
But Thou in all doll feek our higheft good, 
For truth were true no longer, couldft Thou 
change. 
Though crooked feem the paths, yet are they ftraight, 
By which Thou draw'ft Thy children up to Thee, 
And palling wonders by the way they fee, 
And learn at laft to own Thee wife and great. 

No human laws can bind Thy Spirit, Lord, 

That reafon or opinion frame for us ; 
The knot of doubt is fever'd by Thy fword, 

Or falls unravell'd if Thou willefl thus. 
The ftrongeft bonds are weak to Thee, O God, 

All links and fails that would Thy courfe oppofe; 

Thy lightefl word can quell Thy ftouteft foes, 
And defert paths are by Thy footfteps trod. 



*7& Cgra ©n*manka. 

What human prudence fondly ftrives to bind, 
Thy wifdom funders far as eaft from weft; 

We long beneath the yoke of man have pined, 
Thy hand exalteth high above the reft. 

The world would fcatter, Thou doft union give; 
She breaks, Thou buildeft ; what fhe builds is madt 
A ruin'd heap; her light is nought but ftiade; 

Her dead Thy Spirit calls to rife and live. 

Is there an acl: our reafon would applaud ? 

Lo in Thy book haft Thou the example given; 
But him whom none as wife and pious laud, 

Thou often lead'ft in fecret up to Heaven, 
As Thou didft leave the Pharifee, to go 

And eat with finners whom all elfe forfook. 

Who can fearch out Thy purpofes, oV look 
Into th* abyfs of wifdom whence they flow ? 

Our all, O God, is nothing in Thine eyes, 
Our nothing Thou regardeft oft with love ; 

Glory and pomp of words Thou doft not prize, 
Thy impulfe only gives them power to move. 

Thy nobleft works awaken not man's praife, 
For they are hidden, and he blindly turns 
Away, nor though he fee, their light difcerns, 

Too grofs his fenfe, too keen their dazzling rays. 

O Ruler! We would blefs Thee and adore, 
At whofe command we live or turn to duft ; 

vVhen Thou doft give us of Thy wifdom's ftore, 
We fee how true Thy care, and learn to truft. 



£ma ©crmanica. 177 

Thy wifdom plays with us as with a child, 
Who playing learns his Father loves him well; 
'Tis love that brings Thee down with man to 
dwell, 

Love guides our faltering footfteps through the wild. 

Now Teems to us o'er harm and Uriel Thy fchool, 
Now doft Thou greet us mild and tenderly, 

Now when our wilder paffions break Thy rule, 
Thy judgments fright us back again to Thee. 

With downcaft eyes we feek Thy face again, 
Thou kiffeft us, we promife fair amends, 
Once more Thy Spirit reft and pardon fends, 

And curbs our pafftons with a ftronger rein. 

Thou know'ft, O Father, all our weaknefs well, 

Our impotence, our foolifhnefs of mind ; 
Almoft a palling glance may ferve to tell 

How weak are we, how ignorant, how blind. 
Wherefore Thou comeft with Thy help and flay, 

A father's rule, a mother's love are Thine; 

The lamb, on whom none elfe difcern Thy fign, 
Thou carrieft in Thy bofom day by day. 

The common ways are trodden not of Thee, 

Seldom Thy fteps are traced by mortal eyes, 
Yet art Thou near us, and unfeen, doft fee 

All hopes and wifhes that within us rife. 
The bright reflexion of Thy inner thought 

Is day by day before our eyes outfpread; 

Who thinks he quickeft hath Thy meaning read, 
ts oft another deeper lefTon taught. 
9* 



"?8 £gra (femcmka. 

O Eye, whofe glance no falfehood can endure, 
Grant me to wifely judge, and well difcern, 

Nature from grace — Thy Light ferene and pure 
From grofler fires that in and round me burn. 

Let no ftrange fire be kindled on the fhrine 
Within my heart left I mould madly bring 
The hated offering unto Thee, O King. 

Ah, bleft the foul whofe light is born of Thine! 

When reafon contradicts Thy law, or climbs 
So high, fhe weeneth to know more than Thou, 

Break down her confidence, great God, betimes, 
And teach her lowly at Thy feet to bow. 

Nor let my proud heart dictate, Lord, to Thee, 
But tame the wayward will that feeks its own, 
And wake the love that clings to Thee alone, 

And takes Thy judgments in humility. 

Abforb my will in Thine; fupport and bear 
Onward in loving arms Thy timid child, 

Thy Spirit's voice difpels all doubt, all fear, 
And quells the paffions erft fo fierce and wild. 

Thou art mine, All, fince that Thy Son is mine ; 
Oh let Thy Spirit work with power in me, 
With ftrong defire I thirft, I pant for Thee, 

Oh joy whene'er Thy glories round me fhhine ! 

So mail the creature ever ferve me here, 
Nor angels blufh to bear me company; 

The perfect fplrits to Thy throne moft near, 
They are my brethren, waiting there for me ; 



£ma ©mttcmtcct. l 79 

And oft my fpirit joys to meet a heart, 
That loveth Thee and me and every faint. 
Is aught then left can make me fad and faint? 

Come, Fount of Joy! vain forrows, all depart! 

Gottfried Arnold. 1666-17 14. 



i So £fl ra ®ermamca. 



TWENTY-THIRD SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

For our converfation is in heaven ; from whence alfo 
we look for the Saviour, the Lord Jefus Chrilt ; who 
fiiall change our vile body, that it may be fafhioned 
like unto His glorious body, according to the working 
whereby He is able even to fubdue all things unto 
Himfelf. — From the Epistle. 

LET who will in thee rejoice, 
O thou fair and wondrous earth! 
Ever anguifb/d forrow's voice 
Pierces through thy feeming mirth; 
Let thy vain delights be given 
Unto them who love not Heaven, 
My defire is fix'd on Thee, 
Jefus, deareft far to me! 

Weary fouls with toil outworn, 
Drooping 'neath the long hot light, 

Wiih that foon the coming morn 
Might be quenched again in night, 

That their toils might find a clofe 

In a foft and deep repofe; 

I but wiih to reft in Thee, 

Jefus, aeareft far to me ! 

Others dare the treacherous wave 
Hidden rock and fhifting wind, — 



£ma ©crmamca. 



Storm and danger let them brave, 
Earthly good or wealth to find; 
Faith fhall wing my upward flight 
Far above yon ftarry height, 
Till I find myfelf with Thee, 
Jems, deareft Friend to me! 

Many a time ere now I faid, 

Many a time again fhall fay, 
Would to God that I were dead, 
Would that in my grave I lay! 
Reft were mine, and fweet my lot 
Where the body hindereth not, 
And the foul can ever be, 
Jefus, deareft Lord, with Thee ! 

Come, O Death, thou twin of Sleep, 
Lead me hence, I pray thee come, 

Loofe my rudder, through the deep 
Guide my veflel fafely home. 

Thy approach who will may fly, 

'Twere a joy to me to die, 

For death opes the gates to Thee, 

Jefus, deareft Friend to me ! 

Would that I to-day might leave 
This my earthly prifon here, 

And my crown of joy receive 

Waiting me in yon bright fphere ! 

In that home of joy, where dwell 

Kofts of angels, would I tell 

How the Godhead mines in Thee, 

Jefus, deareft Lord to me ! 



»82 £gra (fcmcmtca. 

But not yet the gates of gold 

I may fee nor enter in, 
Nor the heavenly fields behold, 

But muft fit and mourning fpin 
Life's dark thread on earth below ; 
Let my thoughts then hourly go 
Whither I myfelf would be, 
Jefus, deareft Lord, with Thee! 

J. Franck. 1653. 



£m*a ®n*mamca. l8 3 



TWENTY-FOURTH SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Jefus anfwered and faid unto her, Martha, Martha, 
thou art careful and troubled about many things : but 
one thing is needful, and Mary hath chofen that good 
part which mail not be taken away from her. — Luke 
x. 41, 42. 

ONE thing is needful ! Let me deem 
Aright of that whereof He fpoke; 
All elfe, how fweet foe'er it feem, 
Is but in truth a heavy yoke, 
'Neath which the toiling fpirit frets and pants, 
Yet never finds the happinefs it wants : 
This One can make amends whate'er I mifs, 
Who hath it finds in all his joy through this ! 

My foul, wouldft thou this one thing find ? 

Seek not amid created things ; 
Leave what is earthly far behind, 

O'er Nature heavenward itretch thy wings, 
Where God and man are One, in whom appear 
All truth and fulnefs, thou haft found it here,— 
The better part, the One thing needful He, 
My One, my All, my Joy, who faveth me. 

As Mary once devoutly fought 

The Eternal truth, the better part, 

And fat, enwrapt in holy thought, 
At Jefu's feet with burning heart, 



Cgrct (Btvmanka. 



For nought elfe caring, yearning for the word 
That mould be fpoken by her Friend, her Lord, 
Lofmg her All in Him, His word believing, 
And through the One all things again receiving: 

Even fo is all my heart's defire 

Fix'd, deareft Lord, on Thee alone; 
Oh make me true and draw me nigher, 
And make Thyfelf, O Chrift, my own. 
Though many turn afide to join the crowd, 
To follow Thee in love my heart is vow'd, 
Thy word is life and fpirit, whither go ? 
What joy is there in Thee we cannot know? 

All perfect wifdom lies in Thee 

As in its primal hidden fource ; 
Oh let my will fubmiffive be, 

And hold henceforth its even courfe, 
Controll'd by truth and meeknefs, for high Heaven 
To lowly fimple hearts hath wifdom given; 
Who knoweth Chrift aright, and in Him lives, 
Hath won the higheft prize that wifdom gives. 

Oh that my foul from fleep might wake, 

And ever, Lord, Thine image bear ! 
Thee for my portion I will take, 
Thy holinefs Thou bidd'ft us mare, 
Whate'er we need for God-like walk and life 
is given to us in Thee; oh end this ftrife, 
And free me from the love of paffing things, 
To know alone the life from Thee that fprings! 



€$xa ®ermamca. ^5 

What can I aik for more? Behold 

Thy mercy is a very flood ; 
I know that Thou haft pafs'd of old 
Into the Holieft through Thy blood, 
And there redeem'd for ever thofe who lay 
Beneath the rule of Satan ; now are they 
Made free by Thee, who erft were Haves and weak, 
And childlike hearts the name of Father fpeak. 

Deep joy and peace and holy calm 
Fill my once reftlefs fpirit now; 
O'er verdant paftures free from harm, 
She follows Thee, her fhepherd Thou; 
Whate'er rejoices or confoles us here, 
Is not fo fweet as feeling Thou art near; 
This One is needful, but all elfe is drofs, 
Let me win Chrift, all other gain is lofs. 

Schroder. 1697. 



1 86 £gva (Stemamca. 



TWENTY-FIFTH SUNDAY AFTER 
TRINITY. 

Behold the days come, faith the Lord, that I will 
raife unto David a righteous Branch, and a King fhall 
reign, and profper, and (hall execute judgment and 
juftice in the earth.— From the Passage for the 
Epistle. 



R 



EDEEMER of the nations, come! 
Ranfom of earth, here make Thy home ! 
Bright Sun, oh dart Thy flame to earth, 
For fo mall God in Chrift have birth! 



Thou comeft from Thy kingly throne, 
O Son of God, the Virgin's Son ! 
Thou Hero of a two-fold race, 
Walkeft in might earth's darkeft place. 

Thou ftoopeft once to fufFer here, ' 
And rifeft o'er the ftarry fphere; 
Hell's gates at Thy defcent were riven, 
Thy afcent is to highefl Heaven. 

One with the Father! Prince of might! 
O'er nature's realm aflert Thy right, 
Our lickly bodies pine to know 
Thy heavenly ftrength, Thy living glow. 



&$va (Sfarmcmfca. l8 7 



How bright Thy lowly manger beams! 
Down earth's dark vale its glory ftreams, 
The fplendour of Thy natal night 
Shines through all Time in deathlefs light. 
J, Franck. 
After St. Ambrofe. 



1 38 £grct (fermcmka. 



ST. ANDREW'S DAY. 

And Jefus faith unto them, Follow me. . . And they 
ftraightway left their nets, and followed Him. — From 
the Gospel. 

FOLLOW me, in me ye live, 
What ye afk I freely give, 
Only heed ye left ye ftray, 
Follow me the Living Way; 
Follow me with all your hearts, 
I will ward off forrow's darts, 
Learn from Chrift your Lord to be 
Rich in meek humility. 

Yea, Lord, meet it is indeed 
We mould all Thy bidding heed; 
Who in fear of this world's blame, 
Counts Thy lowly yoke a fhame, 
To Thy name, Lord, hath no right, 
Is no Chriftian in Thy light. 
Ah too well I know that we, 
Here on earth, mould follow Thee. 

Where is ftrength, Lord, to fulfil, 
Glad at heart, Thy works and will, 
Following on where Thou haft trod? 
All too weak am I, O God; 



Ctira ©vrmanka. l8 9 

If awhile Thy paths I keep, 
Soon I pine for reft and fleep; 
E'en to love Thee, Lord, aright, 
Pafleth far my feeble might. 

Yet I will not turn from Thee, 
Yet my joy in Chrift mall be ; 
Help me, make me ftrong and bold, 
Firm and faft Thy grace to hold. 
This world and her lulls I leave, 
Only to my Lord I cleave; 
All their promifes are lies, 
But who follows Thee is wife. 

Thou haft gone before us, Lord, 
Not with anger, ftrife, or fword, 
Not with kingly pomp and pride; 
But with mercy at Thy fide. 
Moved by wondrous love divine 
For our life Thou gaveft Thine, 
And Thy precious outpour'd blood, 
Won for us the higheft good. 

Let us follow in fuch fort, 
Chrift-like every deed and thought, 
That Thy love molt true and kind 
Henceforth all our hearts may bind; 
None may look behind him now, 
Who to Chrift hath pledged his vow 
Chrift doth lead, no longer ftand, 
Follow me, is His command. 



J 9° Cgra ©ermanka. 

Draw me up, my God, from hence, 
Raife me high o'er earth and fenfe, 
That I lofe not Thee from fight, 
Nor in life nor death, my Light! 
In my foul's moll deep recefs 
Let me cherifh holinefs, 
Not for fhow or human praife, 
But for Thy fake, all my days. 

Grant me, Lord, my heart's defire, 
So my courfe to run nor tire, 
That my prattifed foul may prove 
What Thy meeknefs, what Thy love. 
Grant me here to trull Thy grace, 
There with joy to fee Thy face, 
This in time my portion be, 
That through all eternity ! 

Rist. 1644. 



Cgra ©armanica. *9 l 



ST. THOMAS THE APOSTLE. 

And Thomas anfwered and faid unto Him, My Lord 
and my God. Jefus faith unto him, Thomas, because 
thou haft feen me thou haft believed ; blefled are they 
that have not feen, and yet have believed. — From the 
Gospel. 

LONG in the lpirit-world my foul had 
fought 
Some friendly being, clofe to her akin; 
Long had prepared a dwelling in her 
thought 
And heart for fuch an one; for fhe could win 
Through Him alone her ftrength, for Him fhe yearn'd, 
Toward Him her fervent longing ever burn'd. 

And rich the world in things invifible, 

In heathen gods, and fpirits great and fmall, 

And bright and dark; yet ever did me dwell 
Alone, for One was wanting 'mid them all; 

One having might and glory, rich in love, 

God, who as man could fhame and weaknefs prove. 

Then came the Word, and took on Him our flefh, 
And dwelt with men, here in the world of fight, 

And made an end of ftrife, and link'd afrefh 
Our finful earth unto the throne of light. 

Into His ancient glory He is gone, 

And yet He dwells with us till time be done. 



J 9 2 fgra ©a*manka. 

Thus, O my foul, haft thou received thy will; 

The glory of the world of ghofts is dim 
Before the One, who is, and was, and ftill 

Shall ever be; all hearts are lix'd on Him, 
And fpirit worlds, fince He is there, become 
Hallow 'd and fafe to thee, thy proper home. 

Thou foareft now through all their heights fublime, 

And not as once doth empty back return, 
But gazing on thy God, forgetteft time 

Beneath His loving glance, whence thou wouldil 
learn 
How thou ihouldfr. love, and know His Word aright : 
Ah bleft the love and faith that afk not fight ! 

Albertini. i 82 i. 



Cum ®mncmtca. *93 



PRESENTATION IN THE TEMPLE. 

Lord, now letteft Thou Thy fervant depart in peace, 
according to Thy word ; for mine eyes have feen Thy 
falvation. — From the Gospel. 

LIGHT of the Gentile world! 
Thy people's joy and love! 
Drawn by Thy Spirit we are come 
Thy prefence, Lord, to prove. 
Within Thy temple walls 
We wait with earneft mind, 
As Simeon waited long of old 
His Saviour God to find. 

Thou wilt be found of us, 

O Lord, in every place, 
Where Thou haft promifed faithfully 

We mould behold Thy face. 

Thou yet doft fuffer us 

Who oft are gather'd here, 
To bear Thee in the arms of faith 

As once that aged feer. 

Be Thou our blifs, our light, 
Shining 'mid pain and lofs, 
Our Sun of ftrength in time of fear, 
The glory round our rrofs ; 



! 94 C^ra (ifemcmfca. 

A glow in finking hearts, 
A funbeam in diftrefs, 
Phyfician, nurfe, in ficknefs* hours, 
In death our happinefs! 

Oh let us, Lord, prevail 

With Simeon at the laft ; 
May we take up his dying fbng 

When life is waning faft ! 

" Let me depart in peace, 

Since that mine aged eyes 
Have feen the Saviour here on earth, 

Have feen His glory rife." 

Yes, with the eye of faith 

My Jefus I behold ; 
No foe can rob me of my Lord, 

Though fierce his threats and bold. 

I dwell within Thy heart, 

Thou doll in mine abide, 
Not forrow, pain nor death itfel£ 

Can tear me from Thy fide. 

J. Franck. i 653 



&$xa ©mncmtca. »95 



ST. MATTHIAS' DAY. 

Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy 
laden, and I will give you reft. — From the Gospel. 

YES, there remaineth yet a reft ! 
Arife, fad heart, that darkly pines, 
By heavy care and pain oppreft, 
On whom no fun of gladnefs fhines; 
Look to the Lamb ! in yon bright fields 
Thou'lt know the joy His prefence yields; 
Call off thy load and thither hafte; 

Soon fhalt thou fight and bleed no more, 
Soon, foon thy weary courfe be o'er, 
And deep the reft thou then fhalt tafte. 

The reft appointed thee of God, 

The reft that nought mall break or move, 
That ere this earth by man was trod 

Was fet apart for thee by Love. 
Our Saviour gave His life to win 
This reft for thee; oh enter in ! 

Hear how His voice founds far and wide, 

Ye weary fouls, no more delay, 

Loiter not faithlefs by the way, 
Here in my peace and reft abide ! 

Ye heavy-laden, come to Him! 

Ye who are bent with many a load, 
Come from your prifons drear and dim, 

Toil not thus fadly of your road! 



l 9 6 Cgra ©mncmka. 

Ye've borne the burden of the day, 
And hear ye not your Saviour fay, 
I am your refuge and your reft? 
His children ye, of heavenly birth, 
Howe'er may rage fin, hell, or earth, 
Here are ye fafe, here calmly bleft. 

Yonder in joy the fheaves we bring, 
Whofe feed was fown on earth in tears; 

There in our Father's houfe we fing 
The fong too fweet for mortal ears. 
Sorrow and fighing all are paft, 
And pain and death are fled at laft, 

There with the Lamb of God we dwell, 
He leads us to the cryflal river, 
He wipes away all tears for ever; 

What there is ours no tongue can tell. 

Hunger nor thirft can pain us there, 
The time of recompenfe is come, 

Nor cold nor fcorching heat we bear, 
Safe fhelter'd in our Saviour's home. 
The Lamb is in the midft; and thofe 
Who follow'd Him through fhame and woes, 

Are crown'd with honour, joy and peace. 
The dry bones gather life again, 
One Sabbath over all fhall reign, 

Wherein all toil and labour ceafe. 

There is untroubled calm and light, 
No gnawing care mail mar our reft; 

Ye weary, heed this word aright, 

Come, lean upon your Saviour's breaft. 



~ 



Cgrct ©mticmka. 197 

Fain would I linger here no more, 
Fain to yon happier world upfoar, 
And join that bright expectant band. 
Oh raife, my foul, the joyful fong 
That rings through yon triumphant throng; 
Thy perfect reft is nigh at hand. 

Kunth. 1733. 



'9 8 Cgra (Bttmanha. 



THE ANNUNCIATION. 

Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me 
according to Thy word. — From the Gospel. 

YEA, my fpirit fain would fmk 
In Thy heart and hands, my God, 
Waiting till Thou mow the end 
Of the ways that Thou haft trod; 
Stripp'd of felf, how calm her reft 
On her loving Father's breaft! 

And my foul repineth not, 

Well content whate'er befall; 
Murmurs, wifhes, of felf-will, 

They are flain and vanquinVd all, 
Reftlefs thoughts, that fret and crave, 
Slumber in her Saviour's grave. 

And mv foul is free from care, 

For her thoughts from all things ceafe 

That can pierce like fharpeft thorns, 
Wounding fore the inner peace. 

He who made her careth well, 

She but feeks in peace to dwell. 

And my foul defpaireth not, 

Loving God amid her woe ; 
Grief that wrings and breaks the heart 

Only they who hate Him know: 



Cgra ©cvmanka. 199 

They who love Him ftill poffefs 
Comfort in their worft diftrefs. 

And my foul complaineth not, 

For fhe knows not pain or fear, 
Clinging to her God in faith, 

Trailing though He flay her here 
'Tis when flefh and blood repine, 
Sun of joy, Thou canft not mine. 

Thus my foul before her God 

Lieth ftill, nor fpeaketh more, 
Conqueror thus o'er pain and wrong, 

That once fmote her to the core; 
Like a filent ocean, bright 
With her God's great praife and light. 

Winkler. 171 3. 



Cgra (Btermamta. 



ST. BARNABAS' DAY. 

We preach unto you that ye mould turn from thefe 
vanities unto the living God which made heaven, and 
earth, and the fea, and all things that are therein : who 
in time paft fuffered all nations to walk in their own 
ways. Neverthelefs He left not Himfelf without wit- 
nefs, in that He did good, and gave us rain from 
heaven, and fruitful feafons, filling our hearts with 
food and gladnefs. — From the Lesson. 

SHALL I not fing praife to Thee, 
Shall I not give thanks, O Lord? 
Since m every thing I fee 
How Thy love keeps watch and ward 
O'er us, how the trueft love 
Ever fills Thy heart, my God, 
Bearing, cheering, on their road, 
All who in Thy fervice move. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

As the eagle o'er her neft 

Spreads her fheltering wings abroad, 

So from all that would moleft, 

Doth Thine arm defend me, Lord; 

From my youth up e'en till now, 
Of the being Thou didft give, 



£m*ct ®mttamca. 



And the life that ftill I live, 
Faithful Guardian ftill wert Thou. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

Nay He kept not back His Son, 
But hath given Him for our good, 

And our fafety He hath won 
By the fhedding of His blood. 

O Thou fathomlefs abyfs! 

My weak powers but ftrive in vain, 
Knowledge of Thy depths to gain, 

Man knows not fuch love as this. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

And His Spirit, bleffed Guide, 

In His holy Word doth teach, 
How on earth we may abide, 

So that heaven at laft we reach; 
Every longing heart doth fill 

With the pure true light of faith, 
That can break the bonds of death, 
And control the powers of ill. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

Truly hath he cared indeed 

For my foul's health, and no lefs 

If my body fuffer need, 

Will He help in my diftrefs. 

When my ftrength and courage fail, 

When my powers can do no more, 
10* 



£$va (ti&zvmamta. 



Doth my God fuch ftrength outpour, 
That I rife up and prevail. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

All the hofts of heaven and earth, 

Hath He placed at my command. 
Nowhere is there lack or dearth, 

But I find in fea and land 
All things order'd for my wants, 
Living things in fields and woods. 
On the heights or in the floods, 
And the earth brings forth her plants. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

When I ileep my Guardian wakes, 
And revives my wearied mind; 

Every morning on me breaks 

With fome mark of love moft kind 

Had my God not ftood my Friend, 
Had His countenance not been 
Here my guide, I had not feen 

Many a trial reach its end. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

Often hath my crafty Foe 

Threaten'd to bring down on me 

Many a fore and heavy woe, 

From which yet my life is free ; 

For the angel whom God fends, 
Wards off every threaten'd hurt, 



Cgvct (Sarmctmca. 2 °3 

Every evil doth avert 
That mine Enemy intends. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

As a father ne'er withdraws 

From a child His all of love, 
Though it often break his laws, 

Though it carelefs, wilful, prove: 
Even fo my loving Lord 

Doth my faults with pity fee, 
With His rod He chafleneth me, 
Not avenging with His fword. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lifts for aye. 

When His ftrokes upon me light, 

Bitterly I feel their fmart, 
Yet are they, if feen aright, 

Tokens that my Father's heart 
Yearns to bring me back again 

Through thefe crolfes to His fold, 

From the world that fain would hold 
Soul and body in its chain. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafts for aye. 

All my life I ftill have found, 

And I will forget it never, 
' Every forrow hath its bound, 

And no crofs endures for ever. 
After all the winter's fnows 

Comes fweet fummer back again, 



*°4 Cgta <2krmcmtca. 



Patient fouls ne'er wait in vain, 
Joy is given for all their woes. 
All things elfe have but their day, 
God's love only lafls for aye. 

Since then neither change nor end, 
In Thy love can e'er have place, 
Father! I befeech Thee fend 

Unto me Thy loving grace. 
Help Thy feeble child, and give 

Strength to ferve Thee day and night, 
Loving Thee with all my might, 
While on earth I yet muft live; 
So fhall I when Time is o'er, 
Praife and love Thee evermore. 

Paul Gerhardt. 1659. 



Cgra ©rcmcmka. 205 



ST. MICHAEL AND ALL ANGELS. 

Are they not all minlftering fpirits, fent forth to 
minifter for them that mall be heirs of falvation ? — 
Heb. u 14. 

PRAISE and thanks to Thee be fung, 
Mighty God, in fweeteft tone ! 
Lo! from every land and tongue, 
Nations gather round Thy throne, 
Praifmg Thee, that Thou doll fend. 
Daily from Thy Heaven above, 
Angel-mefTengers of love, 
Who Thy threaten'd Church defend. 
Who can offer worthily, 
Lord of angels, praife to Thee ! 

'Tis your office, Spirits bright, 

Still to guard us night and day, 
And before your heavenly might, 

Powers of darknefs flee away ; 
Ever doth your unfeen hoft, 

Camp around us, and avert 

All that feek to do us hurt, 
Curbing Satan's malice moft. 
Lord, who then can worthily, 
For fuch goodnefs honour Thee ! 

And ye come on ready wing, 

When we drift toward fheer defpair, 

Seeing nought where we might cling, 
Suddenly, lo, ye are there! 



206 Cgva ®n*manUa. 

And the wearied heart grows ftrong, 
As an angel ftrengthen'd Him, 
Fainting in the garden dim, 

'Neath the world's vaft woe and wrong. 

Lord, who then can worthily, 

For fuch mercy honour Thee ! 

Right and feemly were it then 
We mould glory that our God 

Hath fuch honour put on men, 
That He fends o'er earth abroad 

Princes of the realm above, 

Champions, who by day and night, 
Shield us with His holy might; 

Come, behold how great His love ! 

Lord, who then can worthily, 

For fuch favour honour Thee ! 

Praife and thanks to Thee be fung, 
Mighty God, in fweeteft tone. 

Lo ! from every land and tongue, 
Nations gather round Thy throne, 

Praifmg Thee, that Thou doft fend, 
Hourly from Thy glorious fphere, 
Angels down to help us here, 

And Thy threaten'd Church defend. 

Let us henceforth worthily, 

Lord of angels, honour Thee. 

Rist. 165;. 



Hum <5*rmantca. 



ALL SAINTS' DAY. 

Lo. a great multitude which no man could number, 
of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, 
ftood before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed 
with white robes, and palms in their hands ; and cried 
vi ith a loud voice, faying, Salvation to our G«d which 
fitteth upon the throne and unto the Lamb. — From 
the Epistle. 

HO are thofe before God's throne, 
What the crowned hoft I fee? 
As the fky with flars thick-ftrown 
Is their mining company: 
Hallelujahs, hark, they fmg, 
Solemn praife to God they bring. 

Who are thofe that in their hands 
Bear aloft the conqueror's palm, 

As one o'er his foeman {lands, 
Fallen beneath his mighty arm ? 

What the war and what the flrife, 

Whence came fuch victorious life? 

Who are thofe array'd in light, 
Cloth'd in righteoufnefs divine, 

Wearing robes moll pure and white, 
That unilain'd mall ever fhine, 

That can nevermore decays 

Whence came all this bright array? 



2o8 Cgra Cfcmanka. 

They are thofe who, ftrong in faith, 
Battled for the mighty God; 

Conquerors o'er the world and death, 
Following not Sin's crowded road; 

Through the Lamb who once was flain, 

Did they fuch high vidlory gain. 

They are thofe who much have borne, 
Trial, forrow, pain, and care, 

Who have wreftled night and morn 
With the mighty God in prayer; 

Now their ftrife hath found its clofe, 

God hath turn'd away their woes. 

They are branches of that Stem, 
Who hath our Salvation been, 

In the blood He fhed for them, 

Have they made their raiment clean; 

Hence they wear fuch radiant drefs, 

Clad in fpotlefs holinefs. 

They are thofe who hourly here 
Served as priefts before their Lord, 

Offering up with gladfome cheer 
Soul and body at His word. 

Now within the Holy Place, 

They behold Him face to face. 

As the harts at noonday pant 
For the river frelh and clear, 

Did their fouls oft long and faint, 
For the Living Fountain here. 



£$xa ©armamca. 209 

Now their thirft is quench'd, they dwell 
With the Lord they loved fo well. 

Thitherwards I ftretch my hands, 

O Lord Jefus; day by day, 
In Thy houfe in thefe ftrange lands, 

Compafs'd round with foes, I pray, 
Let me fmk not in the war, 
Drive for me my foes afar. 

Caft my lot in earth and heaven 

With Thy faints made like to Thee, 

Let my bonds be alfo riven, 

Make Thy child who loves Thee free ; 

Near the throne where Thou doll mine, 

May a place at laft be mine. 

Ah! that blifs can ne'er be told, 

When with all that army bright, 
Thee, my Sun, I mail behold, 

Shining ftar-like with Thy light. 
Amen! Thanks be brought to Thee, 
Praife through all eternity. 

Schenk. Died 1727. 



MORNING HYMNS. 



&£xa (Bmrmamca. 



MORNING HYMNS. 



GOD who madeft earth and heaven, 
Father, Son, and Holy Ghoft, 
Who the day and night haft given, 
Sun and moon and ftarry hoft, 
Thou whofe mighty hand maintains 
Earth and all that fhe contains; 

God, I thank Thee from my heart, 
That through all the livelong night, 

Thou haft kept me fafe apart 
From all danger, pain, affright, 

And the cunning of my foe, 

Hath not wrought my overthrow. 

Let the night of fin depart, 
As this earthly night hath fled ; 

Jefus, take me to Thy hearc, 

In the blood that Thou haft fhed 

Is my help and hope alone, 

For the evil I have done. 

Help me as each morn mail break, 

In the fpirit to arife, 
Let my foul from fin awake, 

That when o'er the aged fkies, 
Thy great Judgment Day appear, 
I may fee it free from fear. 



*H C2 rct ®jermamca. 

Ever lead me, ever guide 

All my wanderings by Thy Word ; 
As Thou haft been, ftffl abide 

My defence, my refuge, Lord. 
Never fafe except with Thee, 
Ever Thou my Guardian be! 

Mighty God, I now commend 

Soul and body unto Thee, 
All the powers that Thou doft lend, 

By Thy hand directed be; 
Thou my boaft, my ftrength divine, 
Keep me with Thee, I am Thine. 

Let Thine angel guard my foul 
From the Evil One's dark power, 

All his thoufand wiles control, 
Warning, guiding me each hour, 

Till my final reft be come, 

And Thine angel bear me home. 

Heinrich Albert. 1644. 



H. 

The golden funbeams with their joyous gleams, 
Are kindling o'er earth, her life and mirth, 

Shedding forth lovely and heart-cheering light; 
Through the dark hours' chill 1 lay filent and ftill, 
But rifen at length to gladnefs and ftrength, 

I gaze on the heavens all glowing and bright. 



frira ©armamca. 2I 5 



Mine eyes now behold Thy works, that of old 
And ever are telling to all men here dwelling, 

How great is Thy glory, how wondrous Thy power; 
They tell of the home where the faithful mall come, 
Who depart to that peace that can change not or 
ceafe, 

From earth where all pafTeth as pafles the hour. 

Come let us raife our voices, and praife 
The Maker of all, at His feet let us fall, 

Offering to Him again all He hath given; 

The befl that is ours, our hearts and our powers, 
Glad fongs that we ling Him, thanks that we 
bring Him — 

Thefe are the incenfe moft grateful to Heaven. 

Evening and morning thus ever He cares for us, 

Blelling, renewing, warding off ruin, 
Thefe are His works, thus His goodnefs we prove ; 

When we are fleeping, watch He is keeping, 

When we arife, He gladdens our eyes 
With the funfhine of mercy, the glow of His love. 

All pafTeth away, but God liveth aye, 

And changeth in nought ; eternal His Thought, 

His Word and His Will are fteadfaft and fure ; 
Never His grace nor His mercy decays, 
It heals the fad heart from its deadlier!: fmart, 

Giving it life that mail ever endure. 

God, Thou my crown! forgiving look down, 
And hide from Thy face through Thy pitying 

grace, 1 



216 C^rct ©ttmcmtca. 

All my tranfgreffions againft Thy command ; 

Henceforth oh rule me, guide me and fchool me, 
As Thou feeft fit; my ways I commit 

All to Thy pleafure, Thy merciful hand. 

Croffes and forrow may end with the morrow, 

Stormieft feas mail fink into peace, 
The wild winds are hufh'd, and the funihine returns : 

So fulnefs of reft, and the calm of the bleft, 

Are waiting me there, in that garden moil fair, 
That home for which daily my fpirit here yearns. 
Paul Gerhardt. 



in. 

Come, my foul, awake, 'tis morning, 

Day is dawning 
O'er the earth, arife and pray ; 
Come, to Him who made this fplendour, 

Thou muft render 
All thy feeble powers can pay. 

From the ftars now learn thy duty, 

See their beauty 
Paling in the golden air; 
So God's light Thy mills mould banifh, 

Thus mould vaniih 
What to darken'd fenfe feem'd fair. 



Cgra Ofemantca. **7 

See how everything that liveth, 

Gladly ftriveth 
On the pleafant light to gaze; 
Stirs with joy each thing that groweth. 

As it knoweth 
Darknefs fmitten by its rays. 

Soul, thy incenfe alfo proffer; 

Thou fliouldft offer 
Praife to Him, who from thy head 
Kept afar the florms of forrow, 

That the morrow 
Finds the night in peace hath fled, 

Bid Him blefs what thou art doing, 

If purfuing 
Some good aim ; but if there lurks 
111 intent in thine endeavour, 

May He ever 
Thwart and turn thee from thy works. 

Think that He, the All-difcerning, 

Knows each turning 
Of thy path, each finful ftain ; 
Nay what fhame would fain glofs over, 

Can difcover; 
All thou dofl to Him is plain. 

Bound unto the flying hours 

Are our powers; 
Earth's vain good floats down their wave, 
That thy {hip, my foul, is hailing, 

Never refting, 
To its haven in the grave. 
11 



w* &$xa ©trmonico. 

Pray that when thy life is doling, 

Calm repofing, 
Thou mayft die, and not in pain; 
That the night of death departed, 

Thou glad-hearted, 
Mayft behold the Sun again. 

From God's glances fhrink thou never, 

Meet them ever; 
Who fubmits him to His grace, 
Finds that earth no funlhine knoweth 

Such as gloweth 
O'er- his pathway all his days. 

Wakeneft thou again to forrow, 

Oh! then borrow 
Strength from Him, whofe fun-like might 
On the mountain-fummit tarries, 

And yet carries 
To the vales their mirth and light. 

Round the gifts He on thee fhowers, 

Fiery towers 
Will He fet, be not afraid, 
Thou fhalt dwell 'mid angel legions, 

In the regions 
Satan's felf dares not invade. 

Von Canity, i 654-1 699. 



JEgra ©amianica. 219 



IV. 

Davspring of Eternity ! 

Dawn on us this morning-tide. 
Light from Light's exhauftlefs fea, 

Now no more Thy radiance hide ; 
But difpel with glorious might 
All our night. 

Let the morning dew of love 
On our fleeping confcience rain; 

Gentle comfort from above 

Flow through life's long parched plain ; 

Water daily us Thy flock 

From the rock. 

Let the glow of love deftroy 
Cold obedience faintly given; 

Wake our hearts to flrength and joy 
With the flufhing eaftern heaven, 

Let us truly rife ere yet 

Life hath fet. 

Brighteft Star of eaftern ikies, 

Let that final morn appear, 
When our bodies too mall rife 

Free from all that painM. them here, 
Strong their joyful courfe to run 
As the fun. 



Cprct dkrmcmica. 



To yon world be Thou our light, 

O Thou glorious Sun of grace; 

Lead us through the tearful night, 

To yon fair and bleffed place, 
Where to joy that never dies 
We fhall rife. 
Von Rosenroth. 1684. 



V. 

Once more from reft I rife again, 
To greet a day of toil and pain, 

My Heaven-appointed lot; 
Unknowing what new grief may be 
With this new day in ftore for me, 

But it fhall harm me not 
I know full well; my loving God 
Will fuffer not a hurtful load. 

My burden every day is new, 
But every day my God is true, 

And all my cares hath borne; 
Ere eventide can no man know 
What Day hath brought of joy or woe, 

And though it feem each morn 
To fome new path of fuffering call, 
With God I can furmount it all 

Since this I know, oh wherefore fink, 
My faithlefs heart? And why doft fhrink 



&$va ©evmantca. 



To take thy load again? 
Bear what thou canft, God bears thy lot, 
The Lord of All, He ftumbleth not; 

Pure bleffing ihall thou gain, 
If thou with Him right onward go, 
Nor fear to tread the path of woe. 

My heart grows ftrong, all fear muft fly 
Whene'er I feel Thy love, Moft High, 

Doth compafs me around; 
But would I have Thee for my fhield, 
No more to fin my foul muft yield, 

But in Thy ways be found; 
Thou God wilt never walk with me, 
If I would turn afide from Thee. 

Dear God, let me Thy guidance find, 
I follow with a contrite mind, 

Oh make me true and pure; 
As a good foldier I will fight 
This world of fin, and in Thy might 

My victory is fure; 
Then bravely I can meet each day, 
And fear it not, come what come may. 

My God and Lord, I caft on Thee 
The load that weighs too fore on me, 

The yoke 'neath which I bow; 
I lay my rank, my high command, 
In my Almighty Father's hand, 

Well knowing, Lord, that Thou 
Wilt ne'er withdraw it, for Thy truth 
Hath ever guided me from youth. 



&$va Cfomamcct. 



To Thee my kindred I commend, 
For they are fafe if Thou defend, 

Oh guard them round about; 
My fmful foul would fhelter take 
In Jefu's bofom, for whofe fake 

Thou wilt not call her out; 
When foul and body part at lafl, 
Then all myfelf on Thee I call. 

Anton Ulrich, 
Duke of Brunfwick. 1 667. 



EVENING HYMNS. 



Cgra ©ermantca. 225 



T 



EVENING HYMNS. 

I. 

HE happy funfhine all is gone, 
The gloomy night comes fwiftly on; 
But mine Thou ftill, O Chrift our Light, 
Nor let us lofe ourfelves in night. 



We thank Thee, Father, that this day 
Thy angels watch'd around our way, 
Warding off harm and vexing fear ; 
Through them Thy goodnefs guards us here. 

Lord, have we anger'd Thee to-day, 
Remember not our fms, we pray, 
But let Thy mercy o'er them fweep, 
And give us calm and reftful fleep. 

Thy angels guard our fleeping hours, 
And keep afar all evil Powers ; 
And Thou all pain and mifchief ward 
From foul and body, faithful Lord! 

N. Hermann. 1560. 

11* 



226 £|)ra ©mncmica. 



n. 

Now reft the woods again, 
Man, cattle, town and plain, 

The world all lleeping lies. 
But fleep not yet, my foul, 
For He who made this Whole, 

Loves that thy prayers to Him arife. 

O Sun, where is Thy glow ? 
Thou'rt fled before thy foe, 

Thou yieldeft to the night. 
Farewell, a better Sun, 
My Jefus, hath begun 

To fill my heart with joy and light. 

The long bright day is paft, 
The golden ftars at laft 

Beftud the dark-blue heaven; 
And like a liar fhall I 
For ever Ihine on high, 

When my releafe from earth is given. 

My body haftes to reft, 
My weary limbs undreft, 

I put away thefe figns 
Of our mortality ; 
Once Chrift fhall give to me 

That fpotlefs robe that ever mines. 



C^rct (Sfermamca. *»7 



My head and hands and feet 
Their reft with gladnefs greet, 

And know their work is o'er; 
My heart, thou too fhalt be 
From ftnful works fet free, 

Nor pine in weary forrow more. 
Ye limbs with toil opprefs'd, 
Go now and take your reft, 

For quiet deep ye crave. 
Ere many a day is fled, 
Ye'll find a narrower bed 

And longer flumber in the grave. 
My heavy eyes muft clofe, 
Seal'd up in deep repofe, 

Where is my fafety then? 
Do Thou Thy mercy fend, 
My helplefs hours defend, 

Thou fleeplefs Eye, that watcheft over men. 
Jefus, my joy, now fpread 
Thy wings above my head, 

To fhield Thy little one. 
Would Satan work me wrong, 
Oh! be Thy angels' fong, 

" To him no evil fhall be done." 
My loved ones all, good night! 
No grief or danger light 

On your defencelefs heads. 
God fend you happy fleep, 
And let His angels keep 

Watch golden-arm'd around your beds ! 

Paul Gerhardt. 1653. 



228 Cgra ©mnamca. 



in. 

The day expires; 
My foul delires 
And pants to fee that day, 
When whate'er hath vex'd her he" i 
Shall be done away. 

The night is here, 
Oh! be Thou near; 
Chrift, make it light within; 
Drive away from out my heart 
All the night of fm. 

The funbeams pale, 

And flee and fail; 
O uncreated Sun ! 
Let Thy light now mine on us, 
Then our joy were won. 

All things that move 

Below, above, 
Now with fleep are bleft; 
Work Thou ftill in me while I 
Calmly in Thee reft. 

When fhall the fway 
Of night and day, 
Ceafe to rule man thus? 
When that brighteft day of days 
Once fhall dawn on us. 



Cgra (gjermanka. 22 9 

Ah! never then 
Her light again 
Jerufalem mall mifs, 
For the Lamb fhall be her Light, 
Filling her with blifs. 

Oh were I there ! 

Where all the air 
With lovely founds is ringing; 
Where the faints Thee, Holy Lord, 
Evermore are finging! 

Lord Jefus, Thou 
My reft art now, 
Oh help me that I come, 
Radiant with Thy light to fhine 
In Thy glorious home ! 

Freylinghausen. 1704, 



IV. 

The moon hath rifen on high, 
And in the clear dark iky 

The golden ftars all brightly glow; 

And black and hufh'd the woods, 
While o'er the fields and floods 

The white mills hover to and fro. 

How ftill the earth! how calm! 
What dear and home-like charm 



2 3° C^ra <8>*rnwnua. 

From filent twilight doth fhe borrow ! 
Like to fome quiet room, 
Where wrapt in ftill- foft gloom, 

We fleep away the daylight's forrow. 

Look up; the moon to-night 
Shows us but half her light, 

And yet we know her round and fair. 
At other things how oft 
We in our blindnefs fcofFd, 

Becaufe we faw not what was there. 

We haughty fons of men 

Have but a narrow ken, 
We are but finners poor and weak. 

Yet airy dreams we build, 

And deem us wife and fkill'd, 
And come not nearer what we feek. 

Thy mercy let us fee, 

Nor find in vanity 
Our joy; nor trull in what departs; 

But true and fimple grow, 
' And live to Thee below 
With funny pure and childlike hearts. 

Let death all gently come 

At laft to take us home, 
And let us meet him fearlefsly; 

And when thefe bonds are riven, 

Oh take us to Thy heaven, 
Our Lord and God, to dwell with Thee. 



Cgra <8>£rmcmtca. 231 

We link to number now 

Lord, in Thy name ; do Thou 
Forgive our fins, and o'er our heads 

Keep watch the livelong night, 

And let foft fleep alight 
On us, and on all lick and painful beds. 

Claudius. 1782. 



FOR THE SICK AND DYING. 



Cgra (S&ermcmfca. 2 35 



FOR THE SICK AND DYING. 



I 



I. 

N the midft of life, behold 



Death has girt us round. 
Whom for help then fhall we pray, 
Where fhall grace be found? 
In Thee, O Lord, alone! 

We rue the evil we have done, 
That Thy wrath on us hath drawn. 
Holy Lord and God! 
Strong and Holy God! 
Merciful and Holy Saviour! 

Eternal God! 
Sink us not beneath 
Bitter pains of endlefs death, 
Kyrie eleifon. 

In the midft of death the jaws 

Of hell againft us gape. 
Who from peril dire as this 

Openeth us efcape? 
Tis Thou, O Lord, alone! 

Our bitter fuffering and our fin 
Pity from Thy mercy win, 

Holy Lord and God! 

Strong and holy God! 
Merciful and holy Saviour! 



*3 6 igra ©ermanka. 

Eternal God! 
Let us not defpair 
For the fire that burneth there, 

Kyrie eleiibn I 

In the midft of hell our fins 

Drive us to defpair; 
Whither fhall we flee from them? 

Where is refuge, where? 
In Thee, Lord Chrift, alone! 

For Thou haft fhed Thy precious blood, 
All our fins Thou makeft good, 

Holy Lord and God! 

Strong and holy God! 
Merciful and holy Saviour! 

Eternal God! 
Let us never fall 
From the true faith's hope for all, 

Kyrie eleifon! 

Notker tr. by Luther. 
Written about 900, tr. 1524. 



II. 

God! whom I as love have known, 
Thou haft ficknefs laid on me, 
And thefe pains are fent of Thee, 

Under which I burn and moan ; 

Let them burn away the fin, 

That too oft hath check'd the love 



Cgra @n*mamca. 237 

Wherewith Thou my heart wouldft move, 
When Thy Spirit works within ! 

In my weaknefs be Thou Strong, 

Be Thou fweet when I am fad, 

Let me Hill in Thee be glad, 
Though my pains be keen and long. 
All that plagues my body now, 

All that wafteth me away, 
Preffing on me night and day, 
Love hath fent, for Love art Thou ! 

Suffering is the work now fent, 

Nothing can I do but he 

Suffering as the hours go by ; 
All my powers to this are bent. 
Suffering is my gain; I bow 

To my heavenly Father's will, 

And receive it hufh'd and ftill; 
Suffering is my worfhip now. 

God! I take it from Thy hand 

As a fign of love, I know 

Thou wouldft perfect me through woe, 
Till I pure before Thee ftand. 
All refreshment, all the food 

Given me for the body's need, 

Comes from Thee, who lov'ft indeed, 
Comes from Thee, for Thou art good. 

Let my foul beneath her load 

Faint not through the o'erwearied flelh, 



2 3& Cgra fcmanka. 

Let her hourly drink afreih 
Love and peace from Thee, my God. 
Let the body's pain and fmart 
Hinder not her flight to Thee, 
Nor the calm Thou giveft me; 
Keep Thou up the linking heart. 

Grant me never to complain, 
Make me to Thy will relign'd, 
With a quiet, humble mind, 

Cheerful on my bed of pain. 

In the flefh who fufFers thus, 
Shall be purified from fin, 
And the foul renew'd within; 

Therefore pain is laid on us. 

I commend to Thee my life, 

And my body to the crofs; 

Never let me think it lofs 
That I thus am freed from ftrife— 
Wholly Thine; my faith is fure 

Whether life or death be mine, 

I am fafe if I am Thine; 
For 'tis Love that makes me pure. 

RlCHTER. 171 3» 



Cgra (Bfermanica. *39 



ni. 

When the laft agony draws nigh, 

My fpirit links in bitter fear: 
Courage ! I conquer though I die, 

For Chrift with Death once wreftled here. 
Thy ftrife, O Chrift, with Death's dark power 
Upholds me in this fearful hour. 

In faith I hide myfelf in Thee, 

I mail not perilh in the ftrife ; 
I fhare Thy war, Thy viclory, 

And Death is fwallow'd up in Life. 
Thy ftrife, O Chrift, with Death of yore 
Hath conquer'd, and I fear no more. 

Anon. 



IV. 

Lord Jefus Chrift, true Man and God, 
Who boreft anguifh, fcorn, the rod, 
And diedft at laft upon the tree, 
To bring Thy Father's grace to me ; 
I pray Thee through that bitter woe, 
Let me, a finner, mercy know. 



M° Cgrcx ®jermanka. 

When comes the hour of failing breath, 
And I mult wreftle, Lord, with death, 
When from my light all fades away, 
And when my tongue no more can fay, 
And when mine ears no more can hear, 
And when my heart is rack'd with fear ; 

When all my mind is darken'd o'er, 
And human help can do no more, 
Then come, Lord Jefus, come with fpeed. 
And help me in my hour of need, 
Lead me from this dark vale beneath, 
And fhorten then the pangs of death. 

All evil fpirits drive away, 
But let Thy Spirit with me Hay 
Until my foul the body leave ; 
Then in Thy hands my foul receive, 
And let the earth my body keep, 
Till the Laft Day mail break its fleep. 

Joyful my refurre&ion be, 

Thou in the Judgment plead for me, 

And hide my fins, Lord, from Thy face, 

And give me Life of Thy dear grace ! 

I truft Thee utterly, my Lord, 

For Thou haft promifed in Thy Word: 

"In truth I tell you, who receives 
My word, and keeps it, and believes, 
Shall never fall God's wrath beneath, 
Shall never tafte eternal death ; 



£jn*ct ®n*manka. 



Though here on earth, in time, he die, 
He is not therefore loft; for I 
Will come, and with a mighty hand 
Will break away Death's ftrongeft band, 
And lift him hence that he fhall be 
For ever in my realm with Me, 
For ever living there in blifs." 
Ah let us not that glory mifs ! 

Dear Lord, forgive us all our guilt, 
Help us to wait until Thou wilt 
That we depart ; and let our faith 
Be brave and conquer e'en in death, 
Firm refting on Thy facred word, 
Until we fleep in Thee, our Lord. 

Paul Eber. 1557, 



Go and dig my grave to-day! 

Weary of my wanderings all, 
Now from earth I pafs away, 

For the heavenly peace doth call; 
Angel voices from above 
Call me to their reft and love. 

Go and dig my grave to-day ! 

Homeward doth my journey tend, 
And I lay my ftaff away 

Here where all things earthly end, 
And I lay my weary head 
In the only painlefs bed. 



H 2 £gra ®*rmanica. 

What is there I yet fhould do, 
Lingering in this darkfome vale? 

Proud, and mighty, fair to view, 
Are our fchemes, and yet they fail, 

Like the fand before the wind, 

That no power of man can bind. 

Farewell earth then; I am glad 
That in peace I now depart, 

For thy very joys are fad, 

And thy hopes deceive the hearts 

Fleeting is thy beauty's gleam, 

Falfe and changing as a dream. 

And to you a laft good night, 
Sun and moon and liars fo dear; 

Farewell all your golden light; 
I am travelling far from here, 

To the fplendours of that day 
Where ye all muft fade away. 

Farewell, O ye much-loved friends ! 

Grief hath fmote you as a fword, 
But the Comforter defcends 

Unto them who love the Lord. 
Weep not o'er a pafling fhow, 
To th* eternal world I go. 

Weep not that I take my leave 
Of the world; that I exchange 

Errors that too clofely cleave, 
Shadows, empty ghofts that rangf 



iuiva ©tt-mcmira. 2 43 

Through this world of nought and night, 
For a land of truth and light. 

Weep not, deareft to my heart, 

For I find my Saviour near, 
And I know that I have part 

In the pains He fufFer'd here, 
When He fhed His facred blood 
For the whole world's higheft good. 

Weep not, my Redeemer lives; 

Heavenward fpringing from the dull, 
Clear-eyed Hope her comfort gives ; 

Faith, Heaven's champion, bids us truft; 
Love eternal whifpers nigh, 
"Child of God, fear not to die!" 

E. M. Arndt. 



VI. 

Then I have conquer'd ; then at laft 

My courfe is run, good night ! 
1 am well pleafed that it is paft; 

A thoufand times, good night! 
But ye, dear friends, whom I muft leave, 

Look not thus anxioufly; 
Why Ihould ye thus lament and grieve? 

It flandeth well with me. 



2 44 Cgra (fcmantca. 

Farewell, O anguifli, pain, and fear, 

Farewell, farewell for ever ! 
It glads my heart to leave you here, 

Redeem'd from you for ever! 
Henceforth a life of joy I fhare, 

In my Creator's hand; 
None of the griefs can touch me there, 

That haunt this lower land. 

Who yet o'er earth in time mull roam, 

Not yet from error free, 
Scarce lifp the language of our home, 

The glad eternity. 
Far better is a happy death, 

Than worldly life, I trow; 
The weaknefs once I fank beneath, 

I never more fhall know. 

Lay on my coffin many a wreath, 

For conquerors wreath'd are feen; 
And lo ! my foul attains through death 

The crown of evergreen, 
That blooms in fadelefs groves of heaven 

And this fair victor's crown, 
That mighty Son of God hath given, 

Who for my fake came down. 

'Twas but awhile that I was fent 

To dwell among you here; 
Now God refumes what He hath lent, 

Oh grieve not o'er my bier; 



Criva^ ®n*manka. 2 45 

But fay, 'twas given at His command 

Who takes it, He is jufl; 
Our life and death are in His hand, 

His fervants can but trull. 

That ye ihould fee my grave, alas! 

Shows we are frail indeed; 
That it fo foon Ihould come to pals, 

Our Father hath decreed; 
And He your bitter grief mall ML 

Think not too young am I, 
For he who dies as God doth will, 

Is old enough to die. 

Farewell, thou dear, dear foul, farewell! 

To thofe fweet pleafures go, 
That we who mourning here mull dwell, 

Not yet, alas ! can know. 
Ah when fhall that great day be come, 

When thefe things fade away, 
And thou fhalt bid us welcome home; 

Would God it were to-day ! 

Sacer. 1665. 



VII. 

My God, to Thee I now commend 
My foul; for Thou, O Lord, 

Doll live and love me without end, 
And wilt perform Thy word. 



*4 6 Cgra Cfemagka. 



To whom elfe mould I make my plea, 

That heavenly life be mine? 
All fouls, my God, belong to Thee, 

My foul is alfo Thine. 

Thou gav'ft my fpirit at my birth, 
Take back what Thou haft given; 

And with the Lord I ferved on earth, 
Grant me to live in heaven. 

My foul is fprinkled o'er with blood 

Thy Son hath fhed for us, 
And in Thy fight is pure and good, 

Adorn'd and radiant thus. 

Thou my deliverer waft of yore, 
From fin Thou mad'ft me free, 

Now, faithful God, doft Thou once more 
In death deliver me. 

Thou hVft and loveft without end, 

And doft perform Thy word; 
My pairing foul I now commend 

To Thee, my God and Lord! 

HlLLER. I765. 



FOR THE BURIAL OF 
THE DEAD. 



Cjn-a ©ermantca. 2 49 



FOR THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD. 



o 



H WEEP not, mourn not o'er this bier, 
On fuch death none mould look with fear; 
He died as dies a Chriitian man, 
And with his death true life began. 



Coffin and grave we deck with care. 
His body reverently we bear, 
It is not dead but refts in God, 
And foftlv fleeps beneath the foi. 

It feems as all were over now, — 
The heavy limbs, the foullefs brow, — 
Yet through thefe rigid limbs once more 
A nobler life, ere long, ihall pour. 

Thefe dead dry bones again mall feel 

New warmth and vigour through them Ileal; 

Reknit and living they ihall foar 

On high where Chrifl lives evermore. 

This body, lying ftifF and ftark, 
Shall rife unharm'd from out the dark, 
And fwiftly mount up through the fkies, 
Even as the fpirit heavenwards flies. 
12* 



*5° tma ©nrmcmtca. 

The buried grain of wheat mull die, 
Wither'd and worthlefs long muft lie, 
Yet fprings to light all.fweet and fair, 
And proper fruits fhall richly bear: 

Even fo this body made of duft, 
To earth we once again entruft, 
And painlefs it fhall flumber here, 
Until the Laft. Great Day appear. 

God breathed into this houfe of clay 
The fpirit that hath pafs'd away, 
Chrift gave the true courageous mind. 
The noble heart, ye no more find. 

Now earth has hid it from our eyes, 
Till God fhall bid it wake and rife, 
Who ne'er the creature will forget, 
On whom His image He hath fet. 

Ah would that promifed Day were here, 
When Chrift. fhall once again appear; 
Then fhall He call, nor one be loft, 
To endlefs life earth's buried holt.. 

N. Hermann. 1560. 
After Prudentius. 



II. 

Now refts her foul in Jefu's aims, 
Her body in the grave fleeps well, 

His heart her death-chill'd heart re-warms, 
And reft more deep than tongue can tell, — 






£m*cr ©mnantca. 



Her few brief hours of conflict pafs'd, — 

She finds with Chrift, her Friend, at laft; 

She bathes in tranquil feas of peace, 
God wipes away her tears, fhe feels 
New life that all her languor heals, 

The glory of the Lamb fhe fees. 

She hath efcaped all danger now, 

Her pain and fighing all are fled; 
The crown of joy is on her brow, 

Eternal glories o'er her fhed, 
In golden robes, a queen, a bride, 
She ftandeth at her Sovereign's fide, 
She fees His face unveil'd and bright; 
With joy and love He greets her foul, 
She feels herfelf made inly whole, 
A lefTer light amid His light. 

The child hath now its Father feen, 
And feels what kindling love may be, 

And knoweth what thofe words may mean, 
"Himfelf, the Father, loveth thee." 

A fhorelefs ocean, an abyfs 

Unfathom'd, fill'd with good and blifs, 

Now breaks on her enraptured fight ; 
She fees God's face, fhe learneth there 
What this fhall be, to be His heir, 

Joint-heir with Chrift her Lord, in light. 

The body refts, its labours over, 

And fleeps till Chrift fhall bid it wake; 

The dull that earth and darknefs cover, 
Then as a fun its tomb fhall break. 



*5 Z £gra ©nrmamca. 

Ah with what joy it rifes then 

To meet the perfect foul again ! 

Redeem'd from death, no more to fever, 
At that great marriage feafl fhall they 
With all the faints their homage pay, 

And worlhip there the Lamb for ever. 

We who yet wander through the wafte, 
In faith long after thee on high; 

While here the bread of tears we tafte, 
We think upon that home of joy, 

Where we (who knows how foon?) mail meet 

With all the faints at Jefu's feet, 

And dwell with Him for ever there. 
We fhall fee God; how deep the blifs 
We know not yet that lies in this; 

Lord Jefus, come, our hearts prepare! 

Allendorf. 1725. 



HI. 

Oh how bleffed, faithful fouls, are ye, 

Who have paffed through death; your God ye fee; 

Efcaped at laft 
From all the forrows that yet hold us fall! 

Here as in a prifon we are bound, 
Care and fear, and terrors hem us round, 

And all we know 
It is but toil and grief of heart below. 



JCgra (fermanica. z si 

While that ye are retting in your home, 
Safe from pain, all mifery o'ercome, 

No grief or crofs 
Mixes with yonder joys to work you lofs. 

Chrift doth wipe away your every tear, 
Ye poflefs what we but long for here, 

To you is fung 
The fong that ne'er through mortal ears hath rung. 

Who is there that would not gladly die, 
Changing earth for fuch a home on high, 

Or who would Hay 
To toil amid thefe forrows night and day? 

Come, O Chrift, releafe us from our poft, 
Lead us quickly hence to yonder hoft, 

Whofe battle won, 
Now drink in joy and blifs from Thee our Sun. 

Simon Dach. 1650, 



INDEX. 

The numbers on the left hand are the numbers of the 
original hymns in the " Verfuch eines allgemeinen 
Gefang und Gebet Buchs," from which thefe hymns 
are tranilated. 

No. Page 

1 7c. Ah wounded Head ! Muft Thou . . 80 

151. Alas, dear Lord, what evil haft Thou done 77 

135. All ye Gentile lands awake ! . . 30 

881. Am I a fcranger here, on ear-th alone 

298. Awake, O man, and from thee fhake 

493. Awake, thou carelefs world, awake 

627. Awake, Thou Spirit, who of old . 



787. Come, brethren, let us go 

741. Come deck our feaft to-day . 

211. Come, Holy Spirit, God and Lord 

24. Come, my foul, awake, 'tis morning 

216. Come to Thy temple here on earth 

468. Cometh funfhine after rain . 

23. Day-fpring of Eternity 
824. Dear foul, couldft thou become a child 

839. Eternity! Eternity! 

239. Fear not, O little flock, the foe 

^03. Follow me, in me ye live 

924. From heaven above to earth I come 



57 
61 

4 

4 1 * 



428. Be thou content . . . .156 

532. Chrift, Thou the champion of the band 105 

161 
no 



117 
216 

113 
100 

219 

22 
26 

17 



2 5 6 Sttto*. 

580. Great High-prieil who deigndft to be 

4.36. God liveth ever! 

235. God is our ftronghold firm and fure 

15. God who madeft earth and heaven 

884. God! whom I as love have known 

638. Go and dig my grave to-day 

847. Go forth, my heart, and feek delight 

480. Heart and heart together bound . 
788. Heavenward doth our journey tend 
292. Here, O my God, I call me at Thy feet 

87. Hofanna to the Son of David! Raife 

* How bleft to all Thy followers, Lord, the 

road .... 

76. How mall I meet Thee? How my heart 

780. If Thou, True Life, wilt in me live 
429. If God be on my iide . 
179. In the bonds of death He lay 

48 1 . In the midft of life, behold . 
800. I will not let Thee go . 

194. Jefus my Redeemer lives 

877. Leave all to God 

435. Leave God to order all thy ways . 

412. Let who will in thee rejoice . 
79. Lift up your heads ye mighty gates 

141. Light of the Gentile world . 

708. Long in the fpirit world my foul had fought 

482. Lord Jefus Chrift., true Man and God 
734. Lord, on earth I dwell in pain 

152. Lord! Thy death and paffion give 
497. Loving Shepherd, kind and true 

825. Many a gift did Chrift impart 

413. Moll: High and Holy Trinity ! 

* No. 156 in the (mailer collection. 



Snk-t. 257 

914. My God! lo here before Thy face 
907. My God, to Thee I now commend 
761. My Saviour, what Thou didft of old 

848. Nothing fair on earth I fee •. 

291. Not in anger fmite us, Lord 

912. Now refts her foul in Jefu's arms . 

51. Now reft the woods again 

473. O Crofs, we hail thy bitter reign . 

346. O Friend of fouls, how well is me 

414. O God, I long Thy light to fee 

727. O Glorious Head: Thou liveft now 

739. O God, O Spirit, Light of all that live 

219. O Holy Ghoft, Thou Fire Divine 

113. O Thou EJTential Word 

30. O watchman, will the night of Jin . 

240. Oh how bleJTed, faithful fouls, are ye 

846. Oh wouid 1 nad a thoufand tongues 

632. Oh weep not, mourn not o'er this bier 

402. Oh well for him who all things braves 

394. One thing is needful . 

882. Once more from reft I rife again . 

747. On wings of faith, ye thoughts fly hence 

282. Out of the depths I cry to Thee . 

233. Praife and thanks to Thee be fung 
777. PureEffence! Spotlefs Fount of Light 

* Reft of the weary ! Thou . 
78. Redeemer of the nations ! Come . 

3 1 6. Shall I not Jing praife to Thee 
806. Strive, when thou art call'd of God 

102. Thee, O Immanuel, we praife 
60. The day expires .... 

* No. 73 in the fmaller collection. 



258 3xitot*. 

19. The golden funbeams . 

46. The happy funfhine all is gone 

697. The moon hath rifen on high 

640. Then I have conquered ; then at laft 

865. Though all to Thee were faithlefs . 

165. Thou Holieft Love, whom moft I love 

340. Thou weepeft o'er Jerufalem 

372. Thy Word, O Lord, like gentle dews 

663. Welcome, Thou victor in the ftrife 
855. Well for him who all things loiing 
352. What had I been if Thou wert not 
795. What within me and without 
154. When forrow and remorfe . 
888. When the laft agony draws nigh . 
667. Who are thofe before God's Throne 
460. Who feeks in weaknefs an excufe . 
807. Why halteft thus, deluded heart . 
812. Wouldft thou inherit life with Chrift 

449. Yea, my fpirit fain would fink 
501. Yes, there remaineth yet a reft 



ID 44 * 



b 



214 

225 
229 

2 43 
165 

83 

70 
36 

9 1 
134 
9 6 

126 
74 
239 
207 
149 
142 
129 



195 

















;. *w ** 






••■•• ^ 




4.0 v*. * ) 






o, *' ..T« A 



.**1 














.' «5 ^ 






















>U *e*o< 
















g Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 

1 Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 

: ! Treatment Date: August 2005 

, * # ' ' " Af . . . , ^ * PreservationTechnologies 



»-°^ 




3T. AUGUSTINE - ° *V % *"" A? 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




II H III I MM I III! I Mil | 

014 629 806 # 



